![]() GodA Poem by Katrina
His name is the smallest thing I have ever held between my palms,
pressed together, as though in prayer. I stopped saying it. Taught myself psalms instead - bribed my own tongue into hymn. None of this came naturally. I dreamed whole cathedrals into being; their candlelight trying to push back the darkness. I dreamed of hammering nails through my pale wrists. When I wake, I am a girl without a father - which is to say that when I wake, nothing has changed. © 2017 Katrina |
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Added on March 21, 2017 Last Updated on March 21, 2017 |