I Am The Resurrection
I was
brought down to the shore and nailed so firmly to the iron cross you
could have dissolved me in acid and I'd still be hanging there.
In
washed the sea and a wreckage of razer shells, mermaids purses and
starfish drank the blood from the mud as it settled from my wrists
and ankles. Moth faced children laughed at me as they made
sandcastles that the incoming tide just bounced off.
This
happened every day for three years, until the tide rusted the foot of
the cross away and I toppled sideways into the surflife, choking on
the sand and salt, being stung by mocking Portugese Men'O War and
having my welts pissed on by acid bladdered thugs from the local
seaside estate, straight through their tracksuits.
The
powers that be decided that I had suffered enough, and when the tide
finally washed over by sunburnt head, that was the end of me. The
blue sea faded to indigo, then black. It was over.
Then
the dawn came, unexpected, out of time. Secured between four horses
ridden by saints, slowly moving away from each other, an inch a
day...
It
never ends.
Copyright Bloody Mulberry 20/03/2013
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