Monday, September 5, 2011

Wrung Out

Wrung Out

A twist,
my heart is wrung
like a dishcloth,

Squeezed dry.

A pain too strong and real,
much more than expected…

But it purifies.

…twist and squeeze and
drain the dirty water away.
And then I can dry out in the sun,
remembering the moon.

~ wjm

sept. 2011

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