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From the lips of the doctor
came the earth-shaking gong
of terrifying news-
only days, only months-
unending, unceasing, unrelenting pain.

Gazing at the fresh grave of a spouse
or partner
or friend-
tomorrow doesn’t matter.

One line, not two
on the pregnancy test
for the seventh month in a row.
The empty womb weeps.

In the words
separation
divorce

his house has been destroyed.

As we wait for Jesus, or zombies, or the rapture-
water turning to blood, planets colliding-
we meet our demise in the quiet of everyday.

 

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