veil upon veil is raised,
one after one.
wisdom, the groomsman,
stands next to the sun.
Salome's bare flesh is now ripe for the raping
and Saint John's maw is so ghoulishly gaping
Assassins with plumbs in hand slouch toward Clevelandia
mocking degrees back in whored-Alexandria
stone upon stone is razed,
rune after rune.
wisdom, the bridesmaid,
stands next to the moon.
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