Embodiment. That’s the title.
It’s two sentences. I think they would catch my eye even if the were written as prose:
“No one thinks of it this way, thinks about incarnation being what we do when we say this is the truth of what I am living day to day and it hurts like hell to be the ones to put it into body, but we cannot seem to help ourselves. The truth is being born under out fingertips.” — L.L. Barkat
But that’s not how it’s written. It has stanzas and line breaks that force you to slow down, to put the words into being.
I’d love to share why this poem means so much to me, but some things are too personal for the internet. Suffice it to say, Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.