brothels and fucked whores, what did I think, that he only
fucked me, no man only fucked one wom an, and I would find
out how much he had loved me before because this was how
he fucked whores and this was how he would fuck me from
now on and it went on forever and I stopped fighting because
m y heart died and I lay still and I didn’t m ove and it still kept
going on and I stared at him and I hated him, I kept m y eyes
open and I stared, and it w asn’t over for a long time but I had
died during it so it didn’t matter when it ended or when he
stopped or when he pulled out o f me finally or when he was
gone from inside me and then it was over and there was
numbness close to death throughout me and there was some
man between m y legs. I hadn’t moved and I didn’t move, I
couldn’t m ove, I was on m y back and he had been on top o f me
to fuck me and then he slid down to where his head was
between m y legs and he turned over on his back and he rested
the back o f his head between m y legs where he had fucked me
and he rested there like some sweet, tired baby who had ju st
been born only they put him between m y legs instead o f in m y
arms and he said we would get married now because there was
nothing else left for either o f us; pity the poor lover, it hurt him
too. He was immensely sad and immensely bitter and he said
we would get married now because married people did it like
this and hated each other and felt dead, fucking was like being
dead for them; pity the poor husband, he felt dead. He stayed
between my legs, resting. I didn’t move because there is an
anguish that can stop you from moving and I couldn’t kill him
because there is an anguish that can stop you from killing.
Something awful came, a suffering bigger than my life or your
life or any life or G od ’s life, the crucifixion God; the nails are
hammered in but you don’t get to die. It’s the cross for ladies, a
bed, and you don’t get to die; the lucky boy, the favorite child,
gets to die. Y o u ’ve been mowed down inside, slaughtered
inside, a genocide happened in you, but you don’t get to die.
Y o u ’re not G od ’s son, you’re His daughter, and He leaves you
there nailed because you’re some stupid piece o f shit who
loved someone and you will be there forever, in some bed
somewhere for the rest o f your life and He will make it a long
time, He will make you get old, and He will see to it that you
get fucked, and the skin around where you get fucked will be
calloused and blistered and enraged and there will be someone
climbing on you and getting in you and God your Father will
watch; even when you’re old H e’ll watch. M left at sunrise,
sad boy, poor boy, immensely sad, tired boy, and time was
back on top o f me and I couldn’t move and I waited on the bed
to die but I didn’t die because God hates me; it’s hate. I couldn’t
m ove and I endured all the seconds in the day, every single
