Poetry

Glenn McCrary


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12 november 2012

There Was A Tattoo Of Religion Upon Her Lips

If like a sponge she acquired the abilityTo ingest the amour that I have for herThe possibilities of establishing a new religionLie concrete and sound as the imagesOf her body and mine as oneIf ever a chance arose to fix a womanShe’d be just the gash to mendAnd the scriptures would be her satin skin






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