To Iris

well, my precious little go-between

think you will bring me good news?

If bad let it be a one quick dart of fire,

so I die in my own pyre, a sweet odor

for whoever your god be.

i’d rather read in every diaphanous fold

the good news my loins crave

you sweet little mercurial nymph!

so what shall it be this time-

good or bad?

benny

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