I came into this world holy,
screaming, close to dying, dead,
      don’t think i’m afraid
to leave it the same way

in decades to centuries
they’ll paint me gazing,
serpent around my waist and neck
         secretly an artist's carnal sin

my skin is dry and blemished now
                but i’m no less celestial
my hands bleed because i pick at them;
I’ve bloodied oceans before.