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Talitha Cumi
Judith Deem Dupree
I saw you dying
Your skull too heavy
on a stalk of neck.
Your belly, gross protuberance,
a mockery of mine
(Which rumbles rudely in satiety).
I saw you -
Skin draped limply
over narrow bones,
Like leather hung to dry
against the sun -
All your body's hinges swollen burls
against a ravaged trunk.
I saw you there, too tired to move,
Too weak to brush the flies
That circled like a halo
And fed upon the crusting
of your eyes.
Talitha, cumi . . . child . . .
I pray you . . . rise!
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