there’s a kind of unknowability to lovers i imagine looks something like this an impenetrable enigma a veil surrounding us from outside we look like sculptures surrounded in glass cases that i could see in my reflection while standing fathom far from piéta as i held jesus who gently caressed my robes my tears materialized into marble i watched what looked like columns solemnly drift by at selfie-stick-length apart but just close enough to instagram jesus whispers to me they’ll save themselves but i’m mary i’m just like fuck jesus you scared me i thought you were dead
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piéta
Douglas Dumais
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Issue seventeen of the bi-monthly literary magazine from words(on)pages
Published on Jan 18, 2017
Issue seventeen of the bi-monthly literary magazine from words(on)pages