Deprivation chamber, hold your light,
hold your breath
Bare it before you breathe out.
Constance has supposed a residue,
a cursed blasphemy upon a holy name,
albeit,
Would you ever know
If you had seen her?
Dressed in no fine garment,
But a mother's skin...
A holy servitude of invisible chains
and drastic burdens.
No comments:
Post a Comment