The accordion's stardust seduces the breeze
with swirling synoptic enswooned melodies,
no brushing, no tables, no time for restraints,
amenable polished perfumed incantates,
coaxing the sun's dainty docile repose
like quaint alabaster mottling a rose
whose thorns say "we'll prick you, encourage the flood
to conceive Springtime's starlight like emblazoned buds."
Bursting.
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