Snippets of Future Conversations

I found I had written, what was in fact

A long-winded prayer, seven full years

I'd curled, childlike at His feet

And because I could not stand

I could not leave

I had, sort of this chance, to speak

There's a strange freedom in captivity

You are chained in this one regard, so you are released from all others

I could hunch down and get on all fours,

howl and release the filth under my skin 

and not wonder whether I were beautiful then

The style of your clothes, the curl of your hair, what you eat...it ceases to matter

And I could say, all I wanted to (alone, in that place)

I didn't dismiss it.

If anything, my frustration was encouraged by faith

I could never believe what I could not question

And I think he rather likes it, being tested

And this book, contains a lot of those questions