If spirits could storm
mine would be tearing
itself a part with lightning.
If hearts could dry up
mine would be
whithered and dirty.
I thirst for Living Water -
You hold it out to me.
I pretend I do not see you
and turn to walk away.
I drink the dust instead
and die a little bit more.
But still you're there,
inviting me in.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Thirsting
Posted by emily at 9:10 AM 0 comments
The Heart by Stephen Crane
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
held his heart in his hands,
and ate it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter -- bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
because it is bitter,
and because it is my heart."
Posted by emily at 9:07 AM 0 comments
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