Once a girl came knocking

Once a girl came knocking wanting

a priest but got me:

Would there be, were I to,

 

hell for my plate?

 

Who are you, why would you

ask me this thing?

 

I’m forlorn, twice gone, thrice ripped and stillborn –

and I would go.

 

Go not, promise please,

to this place that’s not there.

 

But go, she went, brief girl to the fair.

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