inter my remains
without coffin, without cloth
to the dust I must become 3
for even the Word incarnate
embraced the afflictive cup 4
and drank its sour wine 5
and so must I 6
a moment or millenniums postmortem, both
a mere blink of God’s eternal eye,
you will find me
gifting my crown to the one most worthy
kissing, kissing
His nail-scared feet
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Beautiful, soulful, and deep-reaching .
Keep writing, honey.