The Other Mary

MaryMagdalene_PassionoftheChrist

Dedicated to R. Browning

***

We even watched the moon, that moon, sink

as some hearts break. And I,

who loved her more than he

in life could do, demanded

one kiss, just one,

and thought well of it for all I’d done!

With the tears I’d dried, the endless rubbing

of those trembling hands, and

whispering only a ‘there, there, my own sweet dear’

nothing more would ask

from my stenched corner,

though I was made to watch those rounded hips

sway, so lovely

in their way,

as she walked the dusty floors, toes dragging,

and would hear the cries from her soft lips escape,

yet me, unheeded.

How could I listen twice more

to that ‘sweet Lord, mine,’

(by then dead, her Lord, though risen)

without myself

rising up

and striking her not once,

that thankless whore, but thrice,

as any man would, and must?

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