THE HEALING STEM

Wriggling to gather my bloodied littersAngry stares met my rouge fingers‘Tis sickening stench was my typical markerI thought a chance with Jesus was a ‘never’ The surging throng, nonethelessI made it through the pressThoughts of a dozen years of sheer ignominyAnd a gravely bruised feminity I was that red, lame dameIn a bid to feel […]

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