The rain fell [tonight,] difuse.
Mothers will cry, thin leaking tears
to water the city.
The warded moon, with its grey crown
promises that your loved one lies
and you will open the door to trouble in the morning.
Jupiterís satellites are dice [tonight.]
For you, they reveal your husbandís slow-beating heart.
Know it has only three chambers. He will not last.
Why ask me these questions,
when you know I will answer?
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