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In the company

of my sisters,

I have known

such a wilderness

of torment and infatuation.

Some sad times,

I stand in my truth

and my sisters let me sink.

My feet grow heavy; heart blue.

I fear they have forgotten

We are all we have left.

I water their feet with my tears,

they perk up like thirsty lilacs;

alert persistent, adoring.

Their love burns and softens me

and we are back

to our beginning as goddesses,

as authors of the seasons,

as the mothers of Jesus.

I cannot live without my sisters.

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