a belated christmas memory
eluded
March 3rd
If only I could harden into a lump of coal and be gifted to the misbehaved. I would sit and absorb the disappointment of innocence; a punishment not only parental but divine, for the world was what raised you from the river, molded you from clay. For that was all you knew.
You held it out with charred hands and were disciplined for what was given. You held it close with stained care and hid it within, for it was given.
