"Only So" John Bonanno, 1988, Acrylic on Cardboard with mirrors, 6" x 9" (approx.), $100

Ah! The Old Days! I found this one in a trunk of old work. I remembered it fondly if faithlessly.
The words I wrote (expand the illustration and try to read it yourself if you desire):

This entrance, this passage, is the very womb, the mother of Anubis.
Here is the threshold of the palace of the company of the gods, the very lords of heaven,
The spinners of the curtains of the false infinite crypt,
Each to each and side to side,
Presenting elegant true-hued wands,
Capped with their true signs.
They alter their noble array in the slow splendrous dance of the stars.
A sweet howl shapes these words:
"Thy candle hath burnt out.
The wick is drowned in a little puddle of wax warm as blood.
Thy flickering flame hath found this portal.
Lift this hasp. Build thine hand and put thee in my grasp.
Shape thee a face and turn it to me.
Let Ptahtenen and thee to squeeze new eyes to gaze on the edges of this form,
Which emanates not.
My body is naught but nothing manifest.
I am a facile aspect of the body of Nuit.
Only so. Only so."