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Greg is in the middle of stepping out the door when he finds his foot hovering over a small bundle wrapped in a worn, hand-knitted blanket.
Oh no, he thinks. Not again.
oh! that i could believe in my own brain
and trust it was not turn’d upon itself
in constant allegorical refrain
entangling my thoughts within themselves.
She lures him with brilliant smile,
Which rots beneath the fish bones
And skulls of lovers past –
Seductress hidden in her pearly raiment.
Majestic heart and tragic past,
Eternal damnation for her work,
Enslaved by Fate, rejected by Heaven –
Doomed, chained to Neptune’s side…