© Sauce*Box, Fall 1998. All rights
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Sauce*Box Fall 1998
Diamond-slit eyes awake
--mirrors of lechery--
ponder the ripe midnight.
To you was bequeathed
Eve's remnant seduction,
melding in ardent dust.
Here, your enlightenment
fails your credulity,
as fools unheed wisdom:
'Not for every man is
the voyage to Corinth'
And the gleaming visage
looming on that hill--Her:
love attired as War--
propels the velocity
of sighing, hastened pants,
trickling the sweet flux of
torrid copulation.
Unclasp your tongue, Serpent:
what do you betoken?
Have you as yet discerned
my heart's apostasy:
this desire to become
A Corinthian Girl?
* * * * *
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