I kneel, in false penance,
on these sharp stones of anguish
until my bare knees bleed
pain on pain;
and I wait for a sign
of your presence
until I have long since not heard
the voice of my defeat;
and it is only when I cry out
to protest your absence
that I realize that it is I
who am not with you.

It occurs to me, oh long-suffering lover,
that I address you
in the same way
that I might address my God.
I wonder who listens
to my wolflike howl.