There is no romance in hanging.

Yet we revere the pinning of Christ to the cross by his hands because he died for our sake, for our sins.

And so forth the girl or boy in the closet hanging by their neck died for their mistakes, their whims.

Kids say you can’t hang or you can’t hang out with us and so you leave, teens hang up on phone-calls when hungover.

Billie Halliday’s Strange Fruit speaks of hanging from the poplar trees and blood on the leaves, nooses cracking necks to disconnect from shoulders.

Lives hanging in the balance is a phrase we know all too well but it need not be as high as a cliff or layover, it can be as low as the clothes on a washing line or anchored to the ground like a rover.






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