No one who’d invented God
Could make the deal that settled
Things between the two of us.
The only neutral partner,
The spirit, the ghost,
The breath, the holy mother
Would never deign to enter
Into that obligation,
The blood’s negotiations.
We’re left alone then, just us,
This irreducibly split,
This soul-haunted flesh of us,
Ready to strike our bargain.
Nothing’s what begins again.
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