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Mary


Moan Lisa


Published by Mermaid Press at Smashwords


Public Domain


She claimed herself the blood and body of the virgin Christ-bearer; spilled out on this earth, for a time, to teach repentance to the inhabitants of the world. She couldn’t answer the phone when I called; so I dropped the receiver back onto the hook. I knew she was there. When the time comes for her next check-up I’ll just have to ring the doorbell, I thought; it wasn’t as if she had anything other to do, she spent all day playing World of Warcraft and smoking cigarettes. I had to get to her. Meanwhile outside, it was a beautiful day; with only a hint of rain coming through the sky. The last four days had been torrential, but it wasn’t like Vic to take an interest in the out of doors when she considered herself so busy with what she was up to. I really need to get to her. I think I’ll take a walk.


The convoluted surface of my skin, which you left

to bleed dry; and the hampering of motion through

the night, where ages pass in an instant, by

telegraph it's gone connected to the fabric of

space, and time;


We walk in different paces;


Through the night, we bleed on one another's wounds;

and this half-wit surgery conscripted in the fire,

knocks down cavities constructed by the world;


A fluidity of anticipation's purview; wrapped

in the throes of ecstasy; worn thin


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