I've studied the scenario

and secretly wished to follow some dark woman as did he

through the sweating arcades, and further down

as hero

or anti-hero of the bazaars,

a more modest Christ-figure, son of Man

chronicling the carefully choreographed fall

and mapping the flames weaving along the body's

hot horizons.

To experience that pain reversing itself

and a fallen woman become goddess.

Sages in towers look down into shadow

filled with thoughts worse than any deed.

I've studied the scenario

and might be able to wear the whore's kiss

like a benediction:

 

“I will perfect you in all mysteries of the Light and all Gnosis” - Pistis Sophia

 

to feel distant Wisdom mine at last

red

like a storm at sunset beyond this spectral town,

her smile stretched between heaven and earth

a crimson slash upon my cheek.