memory is the first hell, I know
now
silva snake before its hiss of fire, juice and game
wheezing
thick sap. Knows
sigh almost,
themselves, last breath
gentle wind, the whisper
without it. Sylph
devilish and invisible, save.
Hail, yes, because I know
their thirst. I give no
sober breath
know, memory is the first hell.
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