A man was sitting on a sidewalk cleaning his wound and dirtiness,
He looked up to see me, and I saw him
What are you doing? I asked confused
An overgrowth scar was on his rib, already healed but dirty and he was cleaning it around,
I am cleaning myself a little with the few things I have because I am poor I have to use little.
Ashamed of this he looked down, but I took him up
You are not poor, I said
Let me give you. I have to give you a part of myself
I recognized his eyes, My LORD was there in those eyes
And I got emotionally overwhelm
I have seen him before, his hair was messy, full of dust, his face was with blood and looking down
But now his face is dusty. He is cleaning himself, healing over time and looking up
He is getting out
The only thing he wants is being intimate but something separate us from that
A voice said and reminded me:
He was 36 when crucified. I thought he was 33? I asked confused
No, the voiced replied
I found myself repeating a verse. A verse he gifted to me
The more I look for you, The more you show up to me.
We ran away together and we are still running.
Intimate, we became one soul.
Thank you for Reading!
From My Version of Him, Between Heaven & Earth, 100 Poems. 1-300 BC Underlined © Glenda Soto-Gomez
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