pulling free


by Jonathan Hunter-Kilmer

slow ooze of cold into my flesh

skin tightens valleys cinch and mesh

in brain deprived or with too much

of what it needs to feel the rush

of fear present in evil's face

when nothing is or interlace

of patterns simple weave of time

into a kind of aimless rhyme

I search again for cause of strain

and images of fight and vain

fence built to keep out nothingness

and legs too muscular to dance

but sprint and cramp and seize lie flat

curled up on asphalt hot race track

but fingers grasp Your promised feet

and whispers from the paraclete

my eyes though screened by evil's shroud

behold Your face and hear the loud

insistent love Your voice impells

into my trembling heart that yells

above the crash of snarling maw

the monstrous evil's drooling jaw

for though my flesh is torn on earth

my self is safe the Queen gave birth

and tenderly You stroke and guard

as I continue my walk toward

the safety of Your greeting breast

where last Your bride I make my nest

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