The priest put a glass on the thing in the vestry We watched it all afternoon Six little legs and the face of my mother He said: "That only happens to you" I’d been awake for a week and a Sunday The fruit had begun to explain I wrote what it said on the back of a summons The ink came through with the rain My sister arrived with a bag full of grapes She peeled one and put down the skin I asked if she’d noticed the room getting larger She asked if I’d let someone in Well I’d let someone in Was it the Lord? Was it the light? Was it the little white teeth of the night? Was I allowed? Was I alone? Who put the stairs in the back of my throat? Up they go Up they go Nobody wipe your feet They brought me a chair and a paper container They asked me the year and my name I gave them the year I was saving my name for the thing that was coming to claim it A woman said: "God doesn’t speak through the plumbing." I said: "Then why give it a mouth?" She turned off the tap. We could still hear the singing. She went to get somebody else. Metamorph! Leave the latch! Something enormous is learning to hatch! Hold my head Hold my coat Something has learned all the words that I know It says: "Be still." It says: "Be still." It says it in my voice. And I am! And I am! Does that count as a choice? Metamorph! Mind the glass! I was a mouth with a man attached! Hold my head Count my teeth Tell me what’s left when it finishes speaking It said: "Rejoice" It said: "Rejoice" I did till I couldn’t stand. Was that a wing? Was that a wing? Why did it look like a hand?