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Dance during the wicked nightWith death’s lips against thy neckAs petals and pips of sweet rosehipFlutter about thy breadth. The shriek it echoes across the pondAnd willows and reeds sigh still;The bleak mythos blends the bondOf fog rolling over the hill. Below the toil the soil springsFor winter’s silver assoil;Flowers sprout about faerie ringsTo mimicContinue reading “Nox”