Sprouting from a carpet of the lion’s flower,
Her grainy eyes droop and grieve,
For a child dead, stone white and cold,
Swaddled in her marble arms....
O Herr House Centipede,
Why dost thou terrify
When thou treadest upon my wall,
With thy trembling carapace...
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10/21/2021 4:35:28 AM # 184.108.40.2066