God of Your Design
Force yourself into my home, my body.
Though the birthplace of birth,
delivering death to children yet to be born first.
The violence you so generously prescribed
to cure the illness you see in me—
without an invitation,
without even a polite question.
Rip open doors,
beat down walls,
exorcize problems that never were.
And now, tell me what I have to say again.
In your language,
repeat it for these savage ears of mine.
.
.
.
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"I take in all of you like a good little girl.
The tears that flow are evidence
of your loving god working his miracles.
Thank you for ridding the traces of evil—
alien knowledge not found in your scripture.
I understand
there is no virtue
in teaching my familiar
that will forever stay your unknown."