Confession PDF Print E-mail
Mark 5:24-34 
by Julie L. Moore
 
And in the twelfth year, there was still 
         Blood. And so many difficult degrees 
 
Of separation. Everything, at this point, 
         Burned. The once-soft skin of her labia. 
 
The pathetic pulp of her womb. 
         And the mass of hard questions.
 
Pressing on her like the crowds 
         Bearing down on him. 
 
She knew the rules: Keep your hands 
         To yourself. Whatever you touch you foul. 
 
But she reached for him anyway. 
          Fastened her un- 
 
Clean fingers, tipped 
         With outrageous nerve, 
 
Onto the lip of his cloak. 
         While he sensed the tug 
 
Of the siphon, the precious liquid of his power 
         Tapped, she felt her river of red 
 
Drain, the fierce spear of her pain 
         Withdraw. 
 
He wanted to know who grasped 
         Such scandalous and particular 
 
Faith. Never again would she soil 
         A place where she lay. So she fell 
 
At his feet. Confessed. 
 
 
 
 
 

Julie L. Moore is the author of Slipping 
Out of Bloom, forthcoming from WordTech 
Editions, and the chapbook Election Day (Fin- 
ishing Line Press). Her poetry has appeared 
or is forthcoming in Alaska Quarterly Review, 
Chautauqua Literary Journal, Cimarron Review, 
Flint Hills Review, Free Lunch, The MacGuffin, 
Sou’Wester, Sow’s Ear Poetry Review, Valparaiso 
Poetry Review, and many others. She is also a 
previous contributor to RUMINATE. Moore lives
in Ohio where she is the writing center director
at Cedarville University.  
 
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