Sunday, October 24, 2010

Love Letter 346 The Licorice Cross

Your plates come filled aplenty
Your wardrobe like a Greek Spire
We have nothing
to hollow out
Oh One
for everything
is solidly Abundant

At Your Feet,
I find the lamp
filled with oil

On my lips
I know an inordinate amount of verse

In these hands
I hold a quenching and insoluble heaven

On these knees
I find the power
to know you more and more

Through my humility
I come to flower

in my abatement
I find the truth

Oh Lord and Lover

You have wounded me with such perfection
I cannot cure Your love

I Love You
Your Beloved


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