She

I glean seething oceans out of your eyes,

teeming forests, deserts caked with tears,

plenteous Worlds I cannot know

save through your gaze,

whose all-encompassing kind

petrifies and yet breaks.

 

There is so much to be known,

but this Knowledge emerges

like a war-torn corpse out of the Heart,

and now it cannot help but to obey

the impossible Laws of the Kingdom. 

 

My God, Thou hast slaughtered me

with looks from her, each day

a slash and cut, and I gash open,

dazed, but I know I am alive,

for though she is not rain to parched lips,

she ensures I reach Thee

parched and dying. 

09/15/2016

Vancouver

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Endless Writer © Ata Zargarof 2018

atazargarof@gmail.com

BC, Canada