Born of Love

Turkish bread, Gaziantep
Born of Love

she died on his birth day. 
she set her self down, 
with all her rumbling and noise 
her desire to be seen, 
to be known, 
to be loved. 
Yes, she needed love, hungered 
for his kisses, his touch, his attention. 
Sometimes she was starving and he 
couldn’t see it. And she wouldn’t say, 
she wouldn’t beg for a morsel of his bread. 

She was born on that day, 
that day that her self died, the day 
they celebrated his coming to life. 
Her Self was full of pure being and empty 
of need. Her Self was love so She 
didn’t need love. She was at home 
in the silence of darkness and 
the magic of light. 

It’s in her quiet that you know she left, 
just picked up that day and walked away. 

And it’s in Her quiet that you know 
She is alive because She stands 
before you naked. 

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