Was it the voice you feared, or its shadow?
Did you long for His touch or was suffering enough for you
to know He was there?
Do you resent my juvenile hungers?
Do you wish for me the freedom of a vast barren plain?
What would you have done with your body if your body obliged?
Did it please you, your son risen at the end like a question?
Do you pity the angels their ancillary lives?
Did your worship falter once you were sure you were good?
How long before you yielded to your inevitable shame?
And how long before you realized (did you realize?)
shame was a blade
you turned against yourself
and once you knew it
you could use it—
