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Energamata

AnnMarie Eldon

Blacking up from the dreambrim bolster.
Hollow sweet, sweaty hollow where my last lay.
Woke only through suction between corpses.
Only and only because your walking-away weapon.

Coffer unkeeps its petticoat swag.
No mediday dayeval jew usuary
but smattered by drip side.
Results clag and lag unusedto

carvedclog: drag against wainscoting.
Bind and load and deadwood emergency
and owe to hip hurt and revert then shredded surplass, Praxeus, Callistus blasted.

Camlet gaumed your bleeding offertory. I
to should to threshing about stop.
To turnpike chaplaincy.
Prerogative now a Marian rood-loft
                     a wayside chapelry.

Ad hoc weakening wake sleep barrier
as cysted feet statter.
Yet deadwood emergency.
Yet achilles bruised. Sloughing

off the blisterskin. Tertullian distinction would have saved me perhaps from the walking
     away spear.
Doughing pilgrimage hood.
Nay floughing. Nay flowing.
Nought flowering

but henbane creep.
Join the disinterred heretici.
(and these Fathers scatter burning texts…
And this real now. This no pretendious.
Strip flannelette to skin; the damnati keep me fire company.

Cureveil long forgot – sprottaged at first, then
bandage. Bacterialled. Wormed.
Nor silk nor girdle ballast hope.
You stripped me.

Kraken patristic horror distinctions beckon.
‘Come’ you say.
Reckon on the seduction works.
Play.
       must totter solebare on their
       whatexactly cinder lists)

And a soldier knew not plasma.
But unlike you broke to prove life.
This not way back but repeat.
Repeated. Hybrid hollyhocks a bruisy maroon today.

Well on the way to mad nakedness.
Fellow travelers splay wicks.
Fake memories to happy me.
Bale pale poor pity-me. Walked. Walked. Walked away.

We are good domestics here.
Stick persons.
Drawings. I crept beneath weary, dreadweary fakery.
You scrub us out. Scrunch us fistball. Children, dogs n all.

We loved you.
I shiver til a specific skeleton spot ache trues.
Leave withered offerings, seed potato peel
taken from gruel from spoon.

Care not who the fuck Hermas, Theophilus or Athanasius
refer to. 7
gifts of the Holy Spirit watched you
as far as the front step. Beyond this family zombies frail shirt
skirt cloak beggar buttoned plead-honed

shawl bare bare bonnet bare as a fontanel pore
simply for one sniff of you who dared
turned and killing, spilling tares,
spitting airs, scoffing -           withdrew.

I follow. Wait. Corpse mates
wrap me around
with bone gowns
and the drop zone takes me sacrificial once more more
underground.



AnnMarie Eldon

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