Pietà

“Thus I behold your never-cherished limbs

in this, our night of love, and not before.

We never lay in one another’s arms,

and now I’ll only watch you and admire.

​But, look, beloved, your poor hands are torn—

and not by me, not love-bites of my own.

Your heart stands wide for all to enter in:

it should have been a door for me alone.”

Rilke

Ink on Paper
24 × 14 in | 61 × 35.6 cm

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