the Last Child-
we called it Mercy.
Bloodclot.
Pulp of the Womb.
and my Mother still carries Its
white flag.
middle name: Surrender.
Altar Child, God knows your spirit.
once you were a Constellation.
now i remember you as a Tidal Wave.
and my Mother remembers
you as a Tear. (or maybe you became laughter on a Sunday
afternoon)
the unending spillage of eternities
on -what is this-
Rocky Shore?
or Terrain of Flesh?
all wet with life
home, here, this endless baptism
to be Holy. to be Clean.
you would have been Apocalypse,
child,
but now you are sinking,
white flag.
our souls sing the same lament.
& you In eternal minor key.