Hail Mary

She hanged her heart on a tree,
without fearing the burns as
protected her face from the sun:
the simple delights were
in the hands of the oceans.

heads were severed and the fire was stripped,
allowing the stones to act.
there was an irresistible charm in fatigued roses,
in long green things,
in dying.

gradually
she absolved herself from abandoned kisses,
and from nearly fatal shadows.
the wind of two colors was waiting for her.

following a strange impulse,
she ran with the lambs
to listen the shepherds.
nobody ever saw her
first prayer.

Karla Bardanza
http://karlabardanzapoems.blogspot.com
http://skycladatmidnight.tumblr.com
http://poeticpostcards.blogspot.com