First Draft

Happenstance, self-named Psyche, should
Ascend beneath the fathoms,
Parched for connection,
Partaking in the patterns, one uncovered
You.

For who so loved
Another as gently pernicious,
Transmitting austere murmurs of
Heretical transgressions
Epitomizing our fault lines—
Radical transition.
Still, waters run deep.

Does one seek the fire to collapse
Attrition, or mask behind the apron of
Yore?

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