Look fire breathing twins of darkly darning, darling
They are seeming seamstresses, sewing, soing, speaking
Words flick from their needles’ display, drinking, dunking, shuttling
They say, good day, good night, say good bye, and pray
Strange patterns form where the twins fold
The colors change to match the hue of the eyes beholding
One stricken stripe for you will not be the same line for me
These are strange ladies, indeed
I think of them oft, in that the girls don’t exist
But that, in that, so that, they do now, you believe
Loving the texturous twine, of twinning the spine
Clone this moment, a fountain under the sea
Spells are laid thus at the doorway of your dreams
Mystics wheel about in lonely deserts, the sand finding form underfoot
I met such shaman in a twilight, the light failing us all
The relief began with a silhouette and grew to additional dimension
Four chambers there be to the heart of man
Four lines I can give you only a moment here
Four days until the birth of another Christmas copy
Four months until the plug is pulled, like a candlestick startled into wisps of smoke
I did not say, I spoke
I find this begun, and broke
