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(the mutilated)
(that’s why they’re not mutilated like the three orders of the Chosen—the Minor Saints, the Diaphanous Spirits, and the Full Auras).
(and not as Chosen, I don’t want to be Chosen),
woods,
woods
wretched
fearless
in the woods
woods
woods
woods.”
woods
The fearless
the woods
don’t want to be Chosen because I don’t want to be mutilated.
the woods
woods,
woods
I wonder if God is the hunger behind hunger, and if behind God lurks the hunger for another God.)
(In the mouth of God?)
corny words
because
Was it the fermenting contamination that had caused it to bulge?
say (whisper) were killed by Him and the Superior Sister.
Like she did with me once, which I’d rather not remember, or write about.
if she’d looked under my sheets,
But I have to because if I write it, then it was real; if I write it, maybe we won’t just be part of a dream contained in a planet, inside a universe hidden in the imagination of someone who lives in the mouth of God.
because she was no saint.
woods
woods,
to kill her,
to kill her.
to tie h...
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to strik...
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to destro...
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to brea...
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to lic...
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to take off her ...
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to tortur...
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to kill her, kill her,...
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(mutilated)
do they even exist?).
But I didn’t quite believe her this time, because her bell kept ringing, as though by moving it she could cast some sort of spell to stop the acid rain from threatening us.
woods
woods,
It was then that I asked myself why I wanted to be Enlightened. Did I really want to be an emissary of the light? To live locked up? To be an intermediary between God and this contaminated world? Was my
necessary, my participation? Escaping from the House of the Sacred Sisterhood means death in the devastated lands. Are the miracles in this blessed space real? Or is it the water in the Creek of Madness that causes us to believe? To question means living in the desert. In a heaven with no God?
the woods
metallic woods.
Now I know why I can’t write that word. Woo Wood Woods.
