Poetry Blog by Sinta Jimenez

Love Koan

 

you could never forget

 

that you’d been born by yourself

 

in the heated margin

 

a nearly lost pulse

 

gripping, white knuckled

 

to existence.

 

 

 

I discovered your great wound

 

this blossom in your side

 

destroying you

 

carrying you

 

through storms

 

falling towers

 

and more

...

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