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Dec 2009
She bathed me, bade me stand, sit.
She fed me Xanax to **** the shakes.
She toweled me off; she said
this would be the last time.
Then to her bed, we lay akimbo
cool sheets wading at our knees.
I began a song, a whiskied song,
an ancient song, distant, old;
something about God and how He
created us to pain; the God
who was origin of all
Brother Sister;
back to the very first one
he made us to pain.
Then the song sweetened,
gentle He made the pain-
since there really is no blame,
no Father Mother Sister Brother-
save the first one.Β  But then,
our first choice, seemed it so-
he made us Choose;
so He made our first choice, too-
knowing well what We are.
Then pass That on,
making the pain
that we make all other pain
upon the First...
I sang about Him until twilight,
until her breaths were soft, peaceful;
I whispered this song, inhaling, exhaling
until the room rocked and slept.

-Jay Bain, 2009
Jay Bain
Written by
Jay Bain
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