POETRY: Reflection On “A Certain Woman” by Enuma Okoro

I.

I confess to stealing
healings caught on rims
of rough cotton linens.
Securing double blessings
in grief and desperation.
A master turned to claim
His own, to seal my blood flow
for a later date and
I’m lauded for a faith
that bore no options.

 

II.

If I believed like She did
and pressed through my crowded thoughts
to steal healings and blessings
in desperate faith
fear and trembling kneeling
to confess my theft and my plagues…
Would my blood flow stop
as I often fear it may?

 

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