Tossed tumbling
from dark womb, into earth´s harsh light,
Bones garbed in
flesh & a fragile skin far too pale & tight,
Stitched &
sewn by God, with needles primed & barbed,
Dressed in packing
of organs & of bones of brittle shard.
Sent via seed by
God, to the mother´s nurturing womb,
Woven with life
& love by heaven´s manipulative loom,
Piece by piece
from patches, of pattern drawn & traced,
Rasping, gasping
& darned & upon this earth misplaced.
Of trousered legs
& tight sleeves of skinned white arms,
Flung upon this
old earth, before fear & continuous harm,
Hems of itchings
beneath knees, of old & bended seams,
Why can nobody in
life, hear her silent & urgent screams?
She wonders why
she feels, that her life is a robe too tight,
And why can she
not be garbed, in gossamer beams of light,
And dressed,
suited & booted in an armour of fetid breath,
Left her longing
to be mantled, in the merciful sigh of death.
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