SHALL

Shall 40

I'm the bride of some lost youth
With which my lips got dry
And my heart cynical went with the leaves of July.
I'm the bride who to ashes
Her immemorial pride was vanquished
And to plenty sorrows it went to celebrate the day of her doom.
I'm the bride who no cathedral
Would wed .
Such desolate fate inscribed so high
that none would reach
and the bride would wither like a fig on a flourishing tree.
I'm the bride with no dress
who stood naked and bore impediments
I'm that minion bride who
to love was the slave
I whispered my achings to some dark slates
lest the chalks could write
Some new decreed fate
for a bride that is a Female Jesus version
Of the genuine notion of love.
I'm his bride he chattered ,
I pray he just knows.