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Messianic Thighs

They found her folded over her kneecaps between the black mirror in the heart of his tires and the grimy curb tugging shamelessly at her skirt, her face to the sky and her eyes full of stars. -It's not beautiful- She said to no one in particular. So they picked her up and brought her back inside. She laughed while they washed the blood off her legs, holding her arms out like the cross - stainless steel under all her bones, the rust from his nails corroding her heartbeat.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009




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Date: 12/4/2009 4:50:00 AM
This gripped me to the very core. I am not sure if you intended the subject of rape here or not but that is what it sounds like. Keep the creative pen flowing. Sara
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Date: 11/24/2009 4:32:00 AM
Wonderful poetry you present to us today Micaela. I hope your week finds you with an overflow of inspiration which you may use to inspire others. Love and blessings to you, Carol
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Book: Shattered Sighs