Where is the quill script
of my golden hands,
dipped in Quink
it flowed capillary to my veins
every facet
in glass, porcelain and silver
Angled my love
with unhurried glance
Many 'Magna Carta' chartered
all cloved hooves
In swift say and justice;
Dripping its measured hands
In exemplary finesse
I exemplified my handwriting
towing my proven strength
with milder pride and soft love
With renewed vigour
I power my knuckle
For another manuscript
For another heart to win
My handwriting...
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