Come Thoth, it is your Seshat.
It is Æ calling us to aid in calming the howls of the
inane pharaohs of this æon.
I hear your verbose silence
spewing strange, novel phonemes.
I grin, sly, at the inaudible sound of your speech.
I came to do the ritual
of stretching the cordon
to measure the dimensions and
align the axis of the temple’s adyton.
Such work makes your Mistress of the Library ravenous.
I am carnivorous.
Press your open mouth to mine
; and, with your flapping tongue,
feed me the meat of your words.