THIEF IN THAT FRIEZE
I may be the thief in that frieze
you are viewing - or it may not
be me at all. How would one tell
something like that - from 500
years ago, no less. It has to be
all about feeling. Nothing less
that that matters. It's a time
from another place; pencils
themselves not yet invented?
How could a scribe scribe the
scribing? In the scriptorium,
I guess. But, in any case, some
mason was crazed enough to
etch this pondered stone: I see
the bishop, the lancer, that
woman from Rhone, and
what I swear has
to be me.
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