the flight of the gazelle

“By the light of all that is sacred in the
flight of the gazelle,

the desert’s thirst is being quenched by
four grains of sand &

the fullness of my eye,” said bint-e-
Mahar, a full-throated

reminder of an able wine-seeker & tooth
of heaven; “what

sullies my ink’s wayward thirst is the
parchment,” she roared.

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