Augustine’s so desperate in his asking about how
God can be contained by the human heart or all
He’s made, how He has to be contained by it be
cause He fills it, how He can’t possibly be contain
ed by it because it’s so clear He stretches out bey
ond our edges, all our edges.  Even when my ed
ges are losing their lines and blooming into hues
He is beyond my edges.  Like I said one time I have
wanted His proximity more than anything in my
life.  Maybe a sculpting of borders would happen
then and my angry seas would meet their shores.

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