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The Sinner

The Sinner

Rest assured
The curve on the blade of my soul is un-embarrass-able
Armed against that awful lightning strike of touch
Against that listening, feeling dying, perfumed heart’s beating.

Living to know the odour of corruption
Cherishing the joke
Reassuring the wardens of my prison
Of startled-laughed-ruled-well by god.

Tell them not to worry, that they can rest assured
Lest, when they see me floating close to that pathetic rabble
They might feel I have betrayed the code.

And you may rest assured
The curve on the blade of my soul is un-embarrass-able
Armed against that awful lightning strike of touch
Against that listening, feeling, dying, perfumed heart’s beating.

I fear that sentimental woman’s broken, perfumed heart
Might break out and break this world of mine
I cannot breathe while perfumed hearts beat and weep and break—in their naivety
Childlike naivety, it is naivety, it is! It is!

I cannot weep and nor shall you,
For you shall feel the hard, hard gravel of my teeth.
For I know you fear that sentimental woman’s broken, perfumed heart
Might break out and break this world of yours.

But rest assured
Behind it all I burrow down
And chew my way until the rotten timbers of your perfumed cask are drained of all
Thought of Mary’s defiant break when she lunged in that awful lightning strike
And anointed the anguished saviour’s feet.

So let us chew until you feel that empty heart
Drained of all such tightness and distress
As comes with Magdalenes and Nazarenes
And you are glad: I know it! Say it! You are glad!

And now!
You may rest assured
The curve on the blade of your soul is un-embarrass-able
Armed against that awful lightning strike of touch
Against that listening, feeling, dying, perfumed heart’s beating.

Peter Volkofsky (2007 – 2010)
( A meditation on a statement by CS Lewis about Mary Magdalene breaking a jar of ointment and breaking her heart—see St. Luke’s Gospel 7:37-38)

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