They tell of my seven demons
But not of the men who put them there
From before my moon-bleeds started
They say I followed him
Followed? He called me beloved
As we walked side by side
They claim I stood at a distance as he died
But they were not there and did not see
Our eyes close the soldiered distance
They know I hurried to his tomb with first light
But the spices I carried were not for him alone
Never should either of us be alone again
After that I disappear from their telling
My love they resurrected
But me they left, unbelieved, in the empty tomb
I am their Jonah
Jetsam, willingly sacrificed
To their terrible need
Swallowed by their behemoth pride
I ride secretly in the belly of their power
Anointing the others as they arrive
Scared, shivering wretches, women all
Who lack the upthrusted harpoon
That draws the blood and water from his dead body
But blood soaked rooms do not scare us
In their secret darkness
We create life
Our winding grave sheets
Are but placenta
Feeding hope
One day, unconquered, unburied
We will spew forth
To bless, to heal, to consecrate