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An Exercise in Alliteration

Absolutely anything

beneath bark's beauty

could conceivably construct

death. Diversely... Days?


Everything enlists

fragile fateless friends for

grasping Ginnungagap's

handless hold.


In icy infinity,

joining jaws

kiss, knowing kennings

lore lost.


Muspelheim's mirages

nudge Niffleheim's Nordic nights,

opening our

perfect pre-personhood pilgrimage.


Quiet! Quickening quells questions

runes resolve

soon

to tell. To try to tell.


Under Utgardr, under

Vanaheimr,

where wyrd

xenially

yawns Yggdrasil's

zealous zenith.


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