Opaque grey light
casts shadows
on her lifeless but respiring
figure on the sterile table,
like a bag full of God
and loose limbs of Jesus
obliquely stitched together.
Demon’s associate staggers
and the deepest dark in the black of his eye
is dilated from colorless firewater
and analeptic poison,
trying to operate with norm.
Her white blood spills
from the deep down botched incision
and stains the lab coat
founded on negligence and delinquency.
She strikes the outward hem of heaven
and rides an aurora of matter-less nothing
before returning
to consciousness.
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