THE GIFT of FORGETTING

There is a pain—so utter—
It swallows substance up—
Then covers the Abyss with Trance—
So Memory can step
Around—across—upon it—
As One within a Swoon—
Goes safely—where an open eye—
Would drop Him—Bone by Bone.

—poem #599 by Emily Dickinson

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There is a holiness in the gift of forgetting. Pain so intense that we are granted reprieve.