Swollen and hollowed.
Ancient bruises
fill her empty slip.
Earnest in lonely secrecy.
Waiting for heaven.
A liminal war.
Long-shadowed voices, rip
with monastic vigour.
Fervent hands
making holy artefacts
in corners of her mind.
Like a lover’s touch.
Knowing.
Ruining.
Reveal yourself
they say
in hungry prayer.
Long-shadowed voices
echo into foreshadowed skin.
Holy hands like machinery
caress her protruding spine
and swallow her sun.
Two vessels, one heartbeat
dancing in communion.
The suncatcher glides
through its place of sanctity;
floor boards creak,
swollen and hollowed.
Cover image by Ray.Crosmy via Wikimedia Commons
About the author
Jes’Se Rushby is a Wiradjuri woman from central-west NSW. She studies Law and people and pretends to know what she’s doing. You can follow her on Instagram at @jesrushby.