Sheltered She

‘She’ s exposed herself’

Naked, with skin as soft as wool, she quivers with the unsureness of a lamb,

and resists with her gentle youth, the sharpness of his gaze. Yet as she yearns for the warmth of a gooey womb, a chilled pleasure creeps in want of his scimitar touch, and knowing this craving to be too much, she lashes great gashes onto her milky skin

like a Flagellant seeking mercy.

‘She must redeem herself’

But she can’t for those thick lacerations now ooze

redness onto once Virgin wings of innocence.

So, here, on the coldness of a sacrificial slab she lies naked, impure, with legs open, like a martyr to desire, hounded, nailed, cross with pain, arms outstretched, a head crowned with thorns and a mouth full of spit

and a ball-gag.

Guilty by association.

He leaves. She is alone, unsure and sore, writhing in the coldness as condemnation begins to snap its jaws:

‘whore’

‘slut’ ‘slag’

The cock thrice calls, the jury clamours, a judge enters, a gavel hammers her reputation like a nail: she is guilty as charged, betrayed and hanging from a cross.