brianna ghey forms
slips into knots in my mind
whispers from imperfect impulses
the darkest of dark deeds
dragging along the retina
those old joys
never since flexed or spoken
caged reminiscences
a sensation of hot running water
from the cross that bore virgin birth
from the death that bore virgin death
& the witnesses fade into other days
the overtness of this damnation.
Clive Gresswell
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