the jaws close shut
and once again
I remain,

alone

Archer, look into your quiver,
Select the very finest arrow,
The quarrel with the straightest shaft,
And the strongest, sharpest, most penetrating point of view.

And all the time we knew it was you,
tucked in behind the wheel,
But when we squirmed against our belts
to see your lips move,
Mom would tell us to sit still.

My neck is now part of this body
and old wounds sting there as well
I ask no forgiveness from God, He
condemns me to heaven or hell

We thought he was joking,
Pounding his chest with his fist.
I only believed he was choking
When he seizedmywrist.