Third Sunday of Advent


She had to have known You,
loved You, poured out her heart to You.
Like breathing, like bleeding.
Like falling out of a tree
to break upon the cold, hard ground
but knowing it would never happen.
For You were there, she knew, to catch.
How else can you account
for the speed of her surrender?
Perhaps this was love at first sight
but that was a long time ago.

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