Forgiveness
I.
I can only imagine it.
You ask me for it —
I deny you three times.
The cock crows.
We marry.
I forget
what there is to forgive,
and you forgive, like always, yourself.
II.
I'm there —
I half expect to be killed
by things you have done,
yet live on.
There must be muteness in it —
pain swallowed,
harm choked on,
all this injury cast up in bones and fossil.
Clouds sailed away.
Worlds forgot.
III.
THE TRICK
You would
if you could,
but what if you can't —
the trick is to believe
your own story,
accident is needed for some kinds of change.
IV.
[...] Read more
poem by Ioanna Carlsen
Added by Poetry Lover
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