The priest was a dilettante and dabbler.
The watchman - a babbler and thief.
The painter poxed the light and sketched shadows.
Prayer and poetry were both left to me.
I crafted her curses to verses
until the ink pot ran dry,
but the lines for confession held nothing
but spit in her father's eye.
Rank saved her skull from the hammer.
Blue blood bought a gentler hell.
And, the name of her love in Cognito
is a kiss, shared swift, beneath veils.
For Open Link Night at dVerse