Friday, November 5, 2010

St. Elizabeth (patron of pregnant women)

your kiss was like a brass bedframe

against the lightest blue wallpaper.

your hips told me you were

a biblical person, born from that

one scrap of earth that was

untouched. I wanted you to

come to me in the middle of the night,

to come to me in my deepest sleep

and tell me things I knew

I wouldn’t remember in the morning.

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