A man alone on a couch.
A woman’s womb empty
and gasping for air
in the bubbles passing by.
Mary at the cross.
My anguished intestines
curl and twist.
What else is there to do
but feel the pulse of feeling itself?
Let it take me, unbidden—
life, beauty profound—
raise my arms and collapse
into a deep well of sorrow,
and grace
sweet, bursting.

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bySelena_Kitt© 0 comments/ 8443 views/ 0 favorites

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