Wednesday, August 4, 2010

No Saints

I need it cleaner, meaner, leaner;
crafted to cut in just one stroke.
I need to bleed.

Chained to my pedestal;
can't get off the altar -
inhaling the incense of
your violence; all your prayers
are recriminations.

Unleash my collar; take these
tags away from me - spare me
the whiplash of your anger.

You desecrate my privacy,
spilling blood upon my waters.

I cannot grant you absolution;
My God is laughing while
your Devil dances.

I need it sudden, sharp and silent;
poised to pierce in just one gasp.
I need to breathe.

August 2010

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