Conic Sections

        Absent no time during that whole outage
        far enough, my dreams spawned embryonic
        sacraments of ritualistic passage.
        Match me edge for edge, seizure to dosage,
        randomly arranged as though gone chronic.
        Watch, they'll mark me absent through the outage.
        Intersections crossed to my advantage,
        their images cut charmingly iconic,
        sacred energies of ritual passage.
        Holy messenger, what special message
        carries farthest, sounds the most symphonic
        through whatever absence, past which outage?
        Replicate the lost frames of our footage
        marrying angelic to demonic.
        Sanctify abandoned rites of passage.
        Am I but an accidental hostage?
        Clutter couldn't be meant more cyclonic.
        Sacrifice me, give me rights to passage
        freely absent, presence wrapped in outage.

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