Ophelia
Then she approached With her slightly swollen belly The vulgar prayer: “What are your eyes for, My Lord, If you can’t see?” Swished Past the rifles Drowned in blood The Bat, Splayed the psalm On the shot through wing Before her lips - Breathe without touching. She didn’t accept The Communion bread Into her mouth Only a languishing penis, Hung in the light web Like a feverish baby Giving orders to Nature Inside her: “There we’ll have The doors of the seething ocean Over there-an island Of her loneliness.” She leaned her forehead Against the frosted window, Caught a glimpse of the Volcano Erupting with Burning horses. “What is this Water giving birth for Since you never part With this cradle Of blood and bones, Steel searching for my nipple?” *** Written April 12th, 2002 © on Apr 12 2002 09:11 AM PST 0 • 12
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"Then she approached..."