wisdom has no love, says the celibate priest
then he weeps and says unto the priestess,
o' my priestess, tear open my robe and
listen to my dumb and loving heart
my head is wise but my heart not
thus spoken, he put his heart on a puny posy
and offered the priestess his last homily
so i write whatever i see from my moving train
a dagger
a beast
a posy
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