[Phi is one of my faces]

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Phi is one of my faces and I wear him when it suits me. I am steadfast against the seasons and you are lying flat in the grass and I want to mull you over. Mull you over incessantly or at least every other Wednesday then weedwack the aisle of your driveway, keeping you trimmed, with special attention to each discernible section that da Vinci rendered, so aptly, without a leaf. You are divinely proportioned. I question his vow to be vegetarian, the center of that offset square haunting, inscribed only by hands that rise to determined dimension. I am enjoying the view.