THE NAILING
He stands over me,
muscular and bare-chested,
hammer in one hand,
nails in the other
His eyes rove
over my naked body,
lying prone on the
rough wood of my cross
Pinned in place,
by his four assistants
Resistance is futile,
their grip is like iron
His gaze wanders,
from my feet up my legs
I close my thighs tightly,
a pointless effort
His eyes continue,
over my flat tummy,
to my softly mounded breasts,
and finally to my face
Eyes hard as diamonds,
no compassion he shows
“Bind her wrists”,
he commands
Arms outstretched,
leather straps applied
He kneels to my right,
holding out the first spike
A spike so terrifyingly thick,
with a flat dull point,
rust-encrusted shank,
and flattened head
The spike in position,
over my upturned wrist,
the dull tip of cold iron
pressing down on my flesh
He raises his hammer
I look away, averting my gaze,
tensing in dread anticipation,
of the blow soon to come
Come it does,
with unbelievable searing pain
My screams rend the air,
the nail buries in wood
He moves to my left,
the other wrist to nail
I beg for mercy, pitifully
But to no avail
With nerves raw,
sending lightning bolts
to my fevered brain
I scream, and scream again
The first part is over
With tears in my eyes
I watch as he stands
to survey his artistry
My fingers involuntarily curl
blood seeps from my wrists
I am pinned like a butterfly,
beautifully spread
My sweat-sheened chest rises and falls
I struggle to move my legs
Awaiting his orders,
strong hands hold my ankles
“Left one first”,
He growls at his men
My knee is bent,
my sole touches the rough wood
Leather thong to hold,
my left foot in place
Right leg stretched out,
my sex shamefully exposed
A leer on the face,
of the nearest handler
His foul breath in my face,
as he fondles my bare breast
Again the nail hovers,
this time over my delicate foot
The blow comes swiftly,
shattering bones
I arch my back,
twisting violently to the side
My handlers hold on,
‘till my struggles subside
One last spike to go,
the other foot,
strapped tightly in place,
just slightly above the first
I no longer care,
my eyes are glazed
This time no scream,
as the nail sinks into the beam
It’s over,
I am ready,
the crowd closes in,
eager for the raising to begin
Barbaria, 2014
He stands over me,
muscular and bare-chested,
hammer in one hand,
nails in the other
His eyes rove
over my naked body,
lying prone on the
rough wood of my cross
Pinned in place,
by his four assistants
Resistance is futile,
their grip is like iron
His gaze wanders,
from my feet up my legs
I close my thighs tightly,
a pointless effort
His eyes continue,
over my flat tummy,
to my softly mounded breasts,
and finally to my face
Eyes hard as diamonds,
no compassion he shows
“Bind her wrists”,
he commands
Arms outstretched,
leather straps applied
He kneels to my right,
holding out the first spike
A spike so terrifyingly thick,
with a flat dull point,
rust-encrusted shank,
and flattened head
The spike in position,
over my upturned wrist,
the dull tip of cold iron
pressing down on my flesh
He raises his hammer
I look away, averting my gaze,
tensing in dread anticipation,
of the blow soon to come
Come it does,
with unbelievable searing pain
My screams rend the air,
the nail buries in wood
He moves to my left,
the other wrist to nail
I beg for mercy, pitifully
But to no avail
With nerves raw,
sending lightning bolts
to my fevered brain
I scream, and scream again
The first part is over
With tears in my eyes
I watch as he stands
to survey his artistry
My fingers involuntarily curl
blood seeps from my wrists
I am pinned like a butterfly,
beautifully spread
My sweat-sheened chest rises and falls
I struggle to move my legs
Awaiting his orders,
strong hands hold my ankles
“Left one first”,
He growls at his men
My knee is bent,
my sole touches the rough wood
Leather thong to hold,
my left foot in place
Right leg stretched out,
my sex shamefully exposed
A leer on the face,
of the nearest handler
His foul breath in my face,
as he fondles my bare breast
Again the nail hovers,
this time over my delicate foot
The blow comes swiftly,
shattering bones
I arch my back,
twisting violently to the side
My handlers hold on,
‘till my struggles subside
One last spike to go,
the other foot,
strapped tightly in place,
just slightly above the first
I no longer care,
my eyes are glazed
This time no scream,
as the nail sinks into the beam
It’s over,
I am ready,
the crowd closes in,
eager for the raising to begin
Barbaria, 2014
Keep up the good work!!!
