most of the time, she goes home early
never fails to visit the church and pray
she has been this way, hollow, empty,
the prayers never make her full
sometimes she extends her time in church
looking at the other faces hoping to find someone
that may like her, propose her a marriage
that at her last trip to love, she may not refuse
or have the right to, she has no right to choose now
at 33, she prayed so hard, and gave bigger tithes,
sponsored masses, and offered masses for her
dead ancestors,
until one day, someone paid her a special attention,
and she promised herself, she would not refuse him,
she married finally the priest, and so the emptiness
from her heart, transferred to the hallways of the church.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
True, love buds forth in the strangest places