Sainted Sun

You can scour every inch of this field

a fist in the small of your back

aching from your stooping low

but you won’t find one tormented corner unoccupied

not by beasts of burden

or food for thought

You could linger there like a criminal in alley

opportunist on a midnight stroll

or you could find some personality to shed

just hover over me instead

and wait until the glimmer leaves my sainted sight

then kiss my lips pink and warm throughout the dreaded night

for no piercing

under any Jesus rib

will dull the lust that seeds the soil

that grows the killing weed of our desire

to rupture every bloody rising  sun

and watch the stars become undone

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Author: valo

I am a poet, writer and activist with a special interest in human rights for children and women as well as the elimination of poverty worldwide. If you read this today, feed someone locally for me will you? Drop off a non perishable food item at the food bank nearest you and consider yourself hugged. Thank you!

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