Book of Praises: The Seventh Day

While the child was still alive,
I was toe-to-the-altar bleeding
prayer from my forehead;
while it still lived,
I was pushing paper into
the wall.

But you have gavelled;
I have acquiesced,
no circling spacecraft
above the bed.

Can I bring you back again?
No, I will go to you,
but you will not return
to me.

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