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A Cycle

Absently my abrupt cycle is like coffee,
One of the computers talking of ability.

Drink them in ways known to God,
To prod in a fraudulent, flawed nod.

My crystal-jaws quake in rods and cups,
This horse may gallop for it bankrupts.

I have hiccups and peppers to taste,
Compasses swivel too jealously, encased.

This cycle accepts my computer,
Acres of activity accuse the accomplisher.

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