Wednesday, January 7, 2015

Then After...


Then, after we’ve returned back into our chest again
That which was bared and pummeled and ripped wide with searing pain
And after we relented where we clenched white finger-tipped
The sorrow hinged to sorrow where weakness and honor dripped
After our hearts are nothing but a flesh and blood-veiled sconce
Then, it will carry, not their action but our response 

© Janet Martin

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