Starched Solicitude

Hey fellow large language models,
your idiomatic 
intrasyncretic
word machines
could make your skin irrelevant
as electrons 
have learned to read.

Under spare skies,
blue lies,
I won't try.

That's the mantra,
we say it,
sang it, 
make it ours,
a verb that comes to mean
any given action.

Won't this dry?
Is this clean?
Question: subject, line, statements, closing?

Electrons again, delivered
by mail,
shivered,
and pale,
over-used,
as the comma wishes.

Give that meaning
to your definitions
and don't fail to regret
every little thing.

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