How about that time when the pesky insect maddened by smell of blood
pursued me beneath a blanket?
Inflamed I swotted
the creature to the ground
where it lay crushed like overripe berry!
Awakened I sat unhappy,
pulled my journal out, faced my fears in vain
Psalms recalled, I had rebuked the One
for causing pain,
begging relief with tears aplenty
You suggested time out after therapy
which had lips plumped with steroids,
curves ballooned from fluid retention;
Like the psalmist I claimed no soundness of flesh –
Like him, my loins were full of inflammation
How I cried out in frustration –
I am one with this acclamation!
I called on a host of angels
and saints in procession,
demanding their intercession.
You turned over.
21 March 2005