Poetry.

I entered the room of the Other
Full of an assurance which was my doubt

She grasped my hand to pray with me
With difficulty she formed her words, yet she thanked me for my doubt

And then I knew it was all a loss: my walls, my seclusion, my purity
I had lost the other, and only in sickness could she bring me back

And only in my doubt could I find her hand

                                                                            – Anonymous

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s