She is a good, kind, fair mother. She works as a waitress in the hotel where I am staying. Every time she comes near the table I sit at, she gives me a kiss …
She is a big warm soft mother. She knits socks for the pleasure of pearling. Every time she opens her mouth to me she smiles …
She is a constant, most and sensitive mother. She makes small cakes and reads stories into them every day in the sunshine and hugs my tomorrows today … every time inter to twine.
She is a double hearted love filled mother. Every time she opens her arms to me daily, I magine sent messages of ever hope from the pages of the encyclopedia of monsters she has become …
Image taken from eighteenth-century grimoire called Compendium rarissimum totius Artis Magicae sistematisatae per celeberrimos Artis hujus Magistros, about which the Internet yields little. It’s written in Latin and German; the Welcome Library, which published a high-resolution scan of the book in its entirety, suggests that it dates to 1775, though its unknown author apparently attempted to pass it off as a relic from 1057. The volume is labelled NOLI ME TANGERE: don’t touch.