Thursday, July 22, 2010

Mary Magdalene

my breasts were


my eyes spun

like compasses.

in bed, I told him

I felt resurrected.

I asked him

to take me

back to the river,

to those derricks

that spout no oil,

to those rusty bridges,

to the crumbling train trestles.

my heart throbbed

like an egg

as red as the sun.

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