by Laura Jan Shore

Original Language English

Yesterday, before dawn
I was crucified again.
The iron spikes were thoughts
biting soft flesh.
The toothache of fear, the panic-bell clang
in my skull,
the Judas kiss of self-betrayal.

When the death bird swooped in
to peck loose
the string bag of my beliefs--
everything tight and knotted
fell away
and I discovered
my untouched self
in the space between.

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