What If I Were

The night has offered me
its womb; canal of darkness,
memory. That which God
fears most- abandonment.

I hear the silence in
your bones, the snapping
of your injured wing; we know
that mourning, gracefully

removes destruction.

How can I believe or bless
the wounded in its ruin?
Whose faith correlates with
leaving what you've found

for being what you've been?