[She reaches up with twisted hands]

She reaches up with twisted hands
And wicked claws, glinting sharply.
She reaches up and
……………………………………………….rips it off,
Straight down the soft mouth like a sleeve.

Off, off with the foul human suit—
Putrid flesh sewn with guilt and sorrow,
Tender pen of venomous rage
That hisses inside and spews forth.

Crumple to the dirt in a heap.
Writhe and squelch in the slime, creature,
And riprriip away the false face.

Out of the skin slides a shadow;
……………………………Obscure, languorous body
……….Built of malice.

No eyes lie in these vacant sockets.
No lips withhold this fetid breath.
This body is not a body—

Stand and gaze at the lapping shore
That does not contaminate me,
That is not meant for me.
A dreamed illusion of greater
Fundamental reality.
I dive

…………down

into the glittering lake,
…….into the Nothing.

CARLA WRIGHT

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