Mother Said: Fat. Retarded. Demon. (Throw 2/3 Away)

Before your wedding,

Sister Mine, let us go

to the tearing juncture

where Bacchae meet the Bard.

I, streaked crimson, have learned

to sheathe the knife.

You, mesmer moon, huntress

and mom-to-be, may

do anything and everything

with the sweet, spying Youth

who approaches and is Horned.

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