rosemary

My son’s beauty
is the cloth wiping away
Christ’s slipped blood.

Rosemary,
Name of my
favorite flower
And the felonious virgin
who spread her legs

the way her husband
smiled his soul
away to me.

Actors, from Eve
to extras,
they’ve always been
so eager to say … yes.

My son has my eyes.
They can see all
of God’s mistake.

He himself is perfect,
like the world will be
under my love.

Rosemary
will give him
perfect a love,
Christ begged for
when on the cross.

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