wax model –

if you stare at me i will remit your sins

with a cudgel; you

have a pain which i cannot fathom -- it

is the ache of ages

gnawing at you, you

the underhanded imp here bravely breaking waves

and coming to -- What

fierce

tide washes over you

as you succumb, subtle

player

of utmost moment and Sacrifice? Is

this your Solemn vow, here, on this parapet?

go slowly Now the

earth is

turning -- it is up to you

to hold on --