At the Gravesite
The hole they dug
Is the mouth that swallows me
Earth piled on
Initiates the vermin’s feast
That will end before eternity
I know the ones
Standing by the grave
But not their thoughts
God will reassemble
The bits and molecules of me
And random other dead
Into, I hope, a bird
That gives my soul a home
My soul that seemed
Uncertain when I was alive
God is never what we think they are
But always there
In between the lines
Of the contract we sign
When we affirm that we are human
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