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Trilogy of Doubt

What form
do you ask for

pointing at me
with your scorn-

raised brow
you clutch your

coxcomb    velvet robe
with your left hand

ringed    married to God
in cuffed surplice

and say: so shall
you burn

What dunce cap
bows me down

cracked hands
clasped over

tunic of pale yolk
the Jews’ color

I was made to wear
for shame

I am ready
to renounce nothing

even should they...

What standing 
crone \ what blood-

bearded henchman
crouched down \

hooded grimace
clenched fist

behind pleading
old man \ capped

swear nothing

by fire

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