Prayer Work

Sometimes,
writing a poem in your head
and then releasing it
unremembered
is the most potent
form of prayer.

By Rebecca L. Atherton

Precious things


 
You came into my house and took without thanking;
and even though I gave you all that I had,
all that I was able:
it wasn’t enough.

In the silence of your departure,
I examine my loss:
unpicking it and licking it
until it calcifies.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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Broken Things


 
There’s a hole in my stomach
that’s miles deep,
and a pain in my chest that feels like
something precious is unravelling.

I pull at the layers of flesh and skin
to reveal their true nature,
discovering a pit of molten fire
devouring a mound of wool.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

To keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter, send me your email address.

• View or buy my work at my online portfolio[/caption]• Save 30% and buy from me direct
Learn more about my work and the inspiration that guides it
• Keep up to date with my progress and receive a copy of my newsletter