by Lorrie Jones
Breitenbush, Oregon, April, 1999
In the prison of your own making
you believe your skin is a barrier
between the “others”… and you
pretending their grief, their shame,
their raw naked hopes
are different from yours
somehow, separate
Take heart and waste not one moment longer
with these wrong thoughts
People are dying from the loneliness
of held in hope
Take the hand of another
listen with your soul
open your heart
Only love will heal
Only love will heal
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