Formidable
dull, brass immensity
immeasurably plain
intrusion
House where the blessed flesh
and sacred blood—containers thereof—are
secure against invaders, the hungry of soul
locked
It stands on the threshold of a hitch in time
the present immense
it doesn’t know it is about to
change
from a cold monstrosity—invention
of exclusionary politics— to a
pulsing throbbing quivering sacred heart
unlocked
Are there, or were there, locked hearts in your life? Enclosures of trapped love? You have a key, don’t you?
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
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