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He named you
Abstract.
My God, you are granite,
rock solid
curbed, bent
bearing a burden
while full of
beauty and grace.
I feel your backbone,
sturdy in your being.

I dare touch you,
and you grasp my heart
and it shivers,
alerted to the Unnamed.
You cast me
to wonder and ponder
and perhaps answer
in no abstract way.
But first, tell me,
are you weeping?

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