of the nameless

by essayan hart

Shechinah, can I know you here?
Carrying a strangers name
From some distant imagining

Carrying a strangers name
Are you of the same body?
A step into your skin; solace

Are you of the same body?
The mutterings of a lady-mystic, Dust.
The names men have offered; marble

The mutterings of a lady-mystic, Dust
Are you not my sister?
In the sinew they call language, frozen
Are you not my sister, Shechinah?
Can I know you here?

We are carrying these names.

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