Martha flinched,
but didn't cry
as the wooden ruler
hit the palm
of her hand;
to her
it was as if the nails
were once again
being nailed
into palm
of the Crucified;
the pain
was His gift
to her,
a sharing
of His pain.
Sister Rose,
who to Martha
had witch-like features,
brought the ruler
down with
determined effort
and gazed at her.
The sting
of the pain
vibrated along
her held out arm
and Martha's eyes
were fixed
on the area above
the witch's head
as if maybe
an angel
would appear
and nod
the Crucified's
approval
and all was watery
and out of focus.
Tu enim, Domine
Deus meus,
Martha muttered
under her breath,
musing through
the sting,
the Crucified's death.
Other hand,
Sister Rose said,
indicating
with a nod
of her habited head.
Martha raised
her other hand,
palm upwards,
put her wounded palm
by her side
seemingly on fire.
The witch
brought down
the ruler
on the open palm,
eyes bright
as an hawk's,
the same intent
to harm or ****
it seemed.
Martha wondered,
as the explosion
hit flesh
whether
the Crucified
would forgive
the penguin's
merciless hammering.
She supposed
He would
as was His wont,
but to her
the nun
was a fecking
cant.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
Martha flinched,
but didn't cry
as the wooden ruler
hit the palm
of her hand;
to her
it was as if the nails
were once again
being nailed
into palm
of the Crucified;
the pain
was His gift
to her,
a sharing
of His pain.
Sister Rose,
who to Martha
had witch-like features,
brought the ruler
down with
determined effort
and gazed at her.
The sting
of the pain
vibrated along
her held out arm
and Martha's eyes
were fixed
on the area above
the witch's head
as if maybe
an angel
would appear
and nod
the Crucified's
approval
and all was watery
and out of focus.
Tu enim, Domine
Deus meus,
Martha muttered
under her breath,
musing through
the sting,
the Crucified's death.
Other hand,
Sister Rose said,
indicating
with a nod
of her habited head.
Martha raised
her other hand,
palm upwards,
put her wounded palm
by her side
seemingly on fire.
The witch
brought down
the ruler
on the open palm,
eyes bright
as an hawk's,
the same intent
to harm or ****
it seemed.
Martha wondered,
as the explosion
hit flesh
whether
the Crucified
would forgive
the penguin's
merciless hammering.
She supposed
He would
as was His wont,
but to her
the nun
was a fecking
cant.
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