Substantial and softly submerged, she brings the bruised and Battersea body neatly back therein… dragging it by the bend of the break of the swollen bone. A fifty-first gender-specific replication of a clotted, cold-faced winter’s evening murdering – secretively reminiscing way back to wildly wherein … these emboldened bodies once first sinned… Since 1915: soon as when she took it in her own blood-curdling, life-sucking hands to clear these cutthroat people away from the knivenly edges of these pockmarked landscapes – taking them and their diction-less faces away from their once upon a heavenly instances … … and fondly returned to their version of hell

on

Earth