April 7, 2011 § Leave a comment

there are scars in the center of your hands that bear my name
a shadow of that eternal moment
when your perfect skin tore for my perpetual failure
there are jagged edges where you surged and struggled
and gasped for air against the winds of a rending heaven
on a cross that should have been mine

i have feasted in the city while you suffered just outside the gates

i have brought you secret shames
and you have allowed my thorns to carve their penance
into your sinless brow

i have made you smallest among gods
and you have scandalously married my defiance
to the glory of heaven
patiently calling me forward
to kneel where you belong
forgiven before your father
with perfect, unmarred palms

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You are currently reading Lenten. at Girl of Cardigan.


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