The Strange Weight of Love

When I lay my head in my mother’s lap,

I think how I have never lost a loved one

Who has kept me up thinking about loss,

Or the strange weight of love, or God.

 

Strange because they would be gone,

And I would not be, and they would not be.  

 

When I lay my head in my mother’s lap,

I think how I would want nothing to do with Him

 

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