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A Victim of Convenience
December 31, 2013
Where else could I kneel?
All the temples are stone
All the carved wooden saints
guard an army of bone
All my prayers, they echo
beneath concrete trees
a shattered glass sepulcher
under my knees
My spine is a fortress
unguarded, my breast
an asylum for any
who come seeking rest
my hands a communion
a doctrine unmade
Come show me the softer ways
penance is paid
© Megan B., Harpers Ferry, WV
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