as if you could break this
ridicule and mistake this
for one micron less than time-refined straight bliss
through eons forged
in the furnace of sun's cores
never diminished by venomous scorn
not once deterred by your profane contempt
propagated in deserts like afghani's hemp,
in all of the places you disdain to search
the outcast who harvests from heaven and earth
the immortal nectar
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