Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2018  Vol. 17 No. 1
an online journal of literature and the arts
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Annunciation, without Angel

Look at me—I was already
acquainting myself with anguish.

I did not feel special. I sensed
doom that first instant—your

heavy weight in my arms,
umbilical cord still joining us,

your grown body draped over me
like a cloying velvet curtain—

eyes fastened skyward, always
looking through me. I should have

said no, should have run away,
ended it all. But I could not

turn down all that love. Too late,
I found it was not worth it. God

does not take no for an answer.
If I had refused, it would have ended

the same. But then I could wear
some scar of comfort that mine

were not the hands that married
you off to wood, to ruin.  

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