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Bread and blackthorns (Free verse) by Caducus

Her feast on the shivering table sickened me, like swine on Moslem tongue. The dew of grief from sill of souls sickened me, like broken bread on Roman tongue. Imprisoned from my ribs my heart found love, It sickened me like Eve on Adams tongue. Slice the loaf for wine. Strip the stems of roses, crown me with its blackthorns and watch my scalp weep for my eyes shall not. I am not your sacrifice Just the worst kind of Martyr….. Unremembered. Alive. Yet dead to only you.

Dovina 18-Nov-05/6:38 AM
Of course.




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