If you can remember lines
I will listen to you.
If you can mention me
in them I will trade my
emptiness for trust.
If your sacred rituals
can sing and rattle
my dreams, I will
move on with living
here in the land
of misunderstanding
that we have inherited.

Hamlet, Jesus–the
old requests to
never be forgotten–
with the guards changing,
with the new dawns,
the loose-fitting coffins–
we live just so we
may remember the
important day when
we were not here,
which is more like
imagination than
worship, which is
okay to mention.

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