Poetry

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On the morning that you pushed out of
her warm yet constricting comfort;

Did you know --
that you weren’t snow white
pure, and commonly desired?

Did you sense --
the beginning of knowledge in your belly
of things outside commonplace, or
revelations of rebellion?

Did you guess --
as you kicked up your heels
running joyful on your newly dried legs
in stubble not yet promising summer sweet grasses,

that the darkness that set you apart,
might be your complicated saviour?


Lesley-Anne Evans
April 2009

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