Judas by Vassar Miller

Judas
By Vassar Miller
 
Always I lay upon the brink of love,
Impotent, waiting till the waters stirred,
And no one healed my weakness with a word;
For no words healed me without words to prove
My heart, which when the kiss of Mary wove
His shroud, my tongueless anguish spurred
To cool dissent, and which, each time I heard
John whisper to Him, moaned but could not move.
 
While Peter deeply drowsed within love’s deep
I cramped upon its margin, glad to share
The sop Christ gave me, yet its bitter bite
Dried up my ducts. Praise Peter, who could
Weep his sin away, but never see me where
I hang, huge teardrop on the cheek of night.