every bone longs for home
every pore, every cell
every corpuscle bustling
through our veins
every ache reminds
of what should have been
every pang recounts
what should not be
but, for now, is

and into this You were born
You, little serpent slayer
entered the world
in the way of all humans
exiting a woman’s gates
to emerge naked and bloody
did You cry as the shock
of the cold clipped Your skin?
did the weight of wrong
weigh on Your shoulders even then?