Shrive me, beloved,
for I have exhausted
the bellows of
this particular life.
Submerge me
under the witness
of all the murmuring saints.
Once, I emerged unscathed
from a dark river of
drowned enemies, stepped
onto the banks grinning,
dripping in glory;
once, I scythed men in
holy fire without question
or regret.
It was enough to have
a sliver of God inside me—
now I bend under
His gimlet eye, now I
dare not straighten knowing
that what I took for permission
was merely silence.
Once, I raised a gibbet cage
and did not gibber.
Brother,
we are all piteous
until we are not.