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Sunday, March 5, 2017

The Seven Deadly

stuffs the last bit of gravy
back into her never-closing hole
and wipes her teeth clean for the next round
shuffles the green
grinning at his rewards
as his guilty client walks to freedom
struts down the slums of the city,
wearing only skin,
and spreads herself like a martyr
rubs her eyes
looking at the hours passed
and rolls to the cold side of the bed
shoves the map away
looking down the road
and knows exactly where he’s going
throws the glass of beer
realizing that she is drunk
but not the girl lying next to him
pushes through the pearly gates
covered in blood,
and wipes his hands clean on St. Peter's robe

First appeared in Gathering Storm Magazine's Year 1, Issue 6 (December, 2017) <>. All rights reserved.