Beth Morey Quotes

the mind is a treasure
trove, an almanac, a tomb.

I wonder what freezes
the flurry of hurt on her cold-
flushed cheeks, if his touch is
a salve or the shattering.

she prays to feel as powerful
as she might if God sang silent
words into her ear and answered
all the rattling questions
now

I am at the gates of my own destruction.

(Or so I'm told.)

God,
is there no faith left?
He has not told. I
would not know Him if I saw Him.