Speak sternly to your foe
as you would speak to the Master
about the condition of your heart.
Bold and quiet as a blue flame
whisper awfully, I know
my pain is bright in your body.
We ignited one another.
The burning emptiness of your belly
is my sorrow.
What can we do?
Sense, touch, cherish our affliction
without naming it:
this turns darkness into light.
To merely blame is an escape
from mutual causation.
Were we not born
through the same exquisite wound
where we circled the darkness and swam
as one pang in our Mother?
Tears are her gift.
It's trying to make them go away
that hurts us.
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