This mirror of mine, this one
A brain master in such colors day by day
I call it a great mixture of blue lens
My ultra violet rays, my radiator
That drains, not drains of a ground water
With a table laid on a regulator
It does rise the master weaver to the moon
And sun gaining, not gaining its lights inside
Of the talkable intelligence loom
While nights bow, and bends down with books
And sweeps, sweeps, sweeps its loops
To be there fed, fed like a little child
The bulk container of the intermediate milds
When it lapses its mint and leak
And the master memory flips a substancial meek
And lapses, lapses its screen and gulps
Especially alittle memory set up in the gap
And relax! break! its colleague shouts
To find, bring order by command of fight
Brain, the master of coloring day by day
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