Friday, April 22, 2011

Poem #22

"Judas, After"

shiny silver suns burn in my palms
their brightness beckons me
I cannot turn away

the crack of whips snap
me awake, moans
and laughter mock me like crows

I see him fallen as a tree
cloaked in purple thorns
what have I done

the suns bleed in my hands
and I throw them on the temple floor
try to wash in the river, useless

the highest tree then
the strongest rope
the tightest noose

no one can bring me to life
no one can save me
I have come undone

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