Grace and Peace to you.
You lay disdain as a cloth
over your cracked table.
The flowers in the vase are no testament.
Your outcry at the intruder’s little infractions
is swallowed by the great heartbroken silence.
It is a ruse, a distraction from what is
actually happening to you— but only for yourself.
God has taken no notice,
kneeling at your feet in forgiveness,
washing them clean with her tears,
wiping them with her hair,
anointing them with pierced hands,
kissing them and kissing them.
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