The conditions are just so
So that
On Uranus it rains diamonds
A climate of shine and hard angles
Of blue glamor
You can’t deny butts
And the possibility that the perfect one evokes diamond rain
And the way I want to kneel at the alter of someone’s
Tush because the yearning has been met completely
I have the body in front of me
I love it and it is my church
Soft angles, warm home
On your anus it rains diamonds
But I haven’t been there yet
This is an achievement -- to turn a Uranus pun into actual poetry. You can't deny butts
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