Mary's Story Poem by Chris Zachariou

The softness of the girl;
the hardness of the boy.

We kissed—
a touch; a sigh; a whisper
and my fate was sealed.

You were terrified;
you struggled free
falling onto the ground
like a soul possessed.

I touched your lips, I wiped
your brow and you trembled
in my hands like a hunted bird.

I begged Him to let go
but He is cruel and jealous
and all is His and only His
and He will never share.

Seven sins came sailing
from across the Galilee
knocking on my father's door.
He cursed and told me
I was the bride of Lucifer.

A red light burns in my window
night and day and some nights
it feels like a thousand men
have passed through my body.

I writhe and howl on these sheets
of soiled dreams and my gown
is soaked in sin with the stench
of paid-for sex.

And all the time,
I close my eyes and search
for you in all the hungry hands
and twisted mouths crawling up
my thighs and battered breasts.