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John (1983)

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John (1983) 
Bi Janus

In the night perhaps,
Your parents and the priest
Huddled about your crib
And plunging their hands
Into your lovely chest
Girded your heart
With a circle of thorns.

So that when you took
The road to Emmaus
You reviled yourself
Met on the path.

On that road I knew
Your heart beneath thorns
And when we loved
The moments of joy lived
Until every joy was pricked
By those thorns
I could never unwind.

At the last 
You in the chair
Your search for love ending
I held your wasted hand
And when you asked
If Jesus of the Sacred Heart
Wreathed in thorns loved you
I lied and whispered
To the last sense to leave
A lie—Yes.


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