i say these things with the greatest conviction:
love should be compelling,
and it should heal, and give rise
to our best intended selves,
unintended by ourselves.
but jealousy is like a seed
that cain planted in me
long before he murdered abel.
love should call us to the greater things,
the greatest things.
it should make me move.
but, cowardly shirks started as soon
as i was bound to eve, draped in ivy
waiting for adam who cowered away.
love beckons me to the valley
and shows me the work to be done.
the violent truth is an echo in my stomach
as i sit in the belly of a whale,
joined by jonah, as we refuse to care.
the violent truth devastates my hopes
in the goodness of our souls.
i tend not to see your face,
it's too hard to look away from my own.
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1 comment:
your writing is frighteningly good. I am haunted by your words Katherine. Had I myrrh to pour on your tender feet I would rub them until they were soft as your elbows.
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