Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty-three
Winter 2013
The Angry Sisters Experience a Conversion
Sandy Longhorn

In a neighbor’s basement, our ears
were at the mercy of language,
sound transmuted to a light-pierced,
tempered gold poured into us.
The neighbor-mother preached
grace achieved through rapture.
She touched our foreheads,
her hand a quicksilver sword
transmitting sacred benedictions.

Later, we agreed, our hearts raced
at the touch and an ominous ache,
a want, formed low in our bellies.
The one who preached had no idea
she had unleashed a thirst for vengeance;
forgiveness a word cut from her speech
in favor of self-sacrificing acts of atonement.
Yet, we knew ourselves as innocents,
instead took up the hunt for sinners
in need of harrowing instruction.

About Sandy Longhorn

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