Oh, Divine One.
Life has tumbled me in so many harsh ways that, now, the bones of this scrubbed body lie clean and free of the last resistance to Love.
Take these bones then,
And, at cliff’s edge, place in a nest of she-oak needles, lichen and bedfordia.
Softly,
Your heart flies in on dimming light. Touches down, caresses. Makes me finally whole.
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