YOU DIDN’T YOU DID.
Fears of feathered fringes of fragments flying
out of here.
Out of body, out of mind
you didn’t, you did it, you did it, you did.
Suffering, he is a river,
winding his way through watered bypass
formed by rock,
and ridge and great,
arching bowls of ocean womb,
only to be blown in clouds
that children might glance
and find forsaken daggers here.
You didn’t, you did it, you did it, you did.
Stop pretending she’ll control it
or somehow freeze the flow.
Stop believing it’s a constant
and stopping it all,
let go.
Life, she is a poet
and Jesus too.
broken in crimson waters.
Who did it?
You didn’t, you did it, you did it, you did.
Georgi
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