Thursday, April 13, 2006

Grit That I Can't Remove
(a song for Maundy Thursday)

Sunbaked skin
Cracked and bruised
from many miles
of walking
from many miles
of just living.

They aren't pretty
Not even close
but they are
still mine
and still you
say come
and still you
say come.

I don't know why
I can't figure you out.
You say that my feet don't matter,
and it's my heart that does,
though my beliefs have gone south.
Just approach.

Dirt gets everywhere
Even in tiny crevices
from all of my
long nights
from all of my
long trials.

Stress breaks the skin
The cuts get infected
I can't keep my
feet clean ('cause)
I can't reach to
wash them.

And I can't say why
I won't try to figure you out
You say that my feet don't matter
and it's my heart that does,
so I believe through my doubt
and approach.


APN,
Copyright 04/13/2006

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