Nice Work, Paul!
fuels the flames you send upon me.
I should have dnown you can't fight fire
with fire.
What are we,
some tragic operetta?
One where all but I know you don't share
my desire.
Artful sin bearing "no
hope of hole or heliotrope."
(I hope to choke your "impious lamps")
You are not fit for flame
or pyre.
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