Madame Rapoza

Take this card, take any card, and know your fate, or discard, both theory and invention, my reality and yours, ignorance and substitution, illusion, and delusion... Is your card not The Hermit? The Fool's retreat, into passivity, into defeat... Have you forgotten life? Have you placed a candle at the altar, infront of the pew, in wretched wood, where you took your seat, wavering your doubtful hand, over the demonscroll, the bound holy sheet... Turin Shroud, our ressurected Lord, confound; silent miracle, so soft, with peachy flesh, blue as The Hanged man, ...oh how he spins! Have you ever seen rope weave, the threads of death, so beatifully, reflecting the serene, etherized, etherealised, in the pale sickly sheen.