STRIP
THE FLESH, SALT THE WOUND
His wounds
Like parted lips kissing
The coffin on his back.
Strip the flesh, salt the
wound.
Crack of leather discipline,
Whips through the arid air
Caressing the skin with scars.
Strip the flesh, Salt the
wound.
Above his brow
Rests a crown,
Thorns prickly sweet.
Strip the flesh, Salt the
wound.
Mallet crashes from on high
Nail driven through flesh
Wood suckles like a hungry
babe.
Strip the flesh, Salt the
wound.
Behold his form
Stretched against the oak
Revel in the pain
Strip the flesh, Salt the
wound.
Sin shalt only be cleansed by pain
He suffered so we did not,
The selfish prick.
Strip the flesh, Salt the wound.
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