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White Suns
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Cathexis
Gather scorpion's charms,
Assemble to circuit.
Drawing power from my days,
I come wielding an age.
My strength is finite.
I try to fill the cracks
with an astral substance
culled from the holy dance.
From my corner of sky,
I watch myself gesture
and try to draw it out
from within a maze of doubt.
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