I put tags in
The Beaters
its final stanza
The lips that meet the wound can finally
Justify nothing – neither pain nor care;
Tender upon the shoulders ripe with blood.
Jesus and his Mother
it describes the Annunciation thus
He seemed much like another man,
That silent foreigner who trod
Outside my door with lily rod:
How could I know what I began
Meeting the eyes more furious than
The eyes of Joseph, those of God?
I was my own and not my own.
The Corridor
which plays on watching and being watched – one looks through a keyhole, the voyeur is seen...
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