I suffer from eternal amnesia.
No convenient fracture divides my life into
Parts: Before Sin and After,
To remind me of the heights from which I’ve fallen.
I’m compelled by the arc of a broken covenant
To repent of myself and I do,
In confusion more earnest
Than my confessions.

My body is accustomed to the gravity
Of my condition,
Too familiar with this earth,
Soft where Adam rests.
I cannot help but envy the man who,
Upon his last exhale,
Possessed a memory and a trinket
To show for his mistakes.

I, with nothing but my backwards confessions,
Make a pilgrimage to the cross,
But at which cross to present my sins
Is anyone’s guess--
As are the sins themselves.
Can anyone point me
To the blood of the
Original Christ?

It was the holy who crucified him with
Beautiful execution;
They never got their hands wet and still
Washed them for good measure.
Was it Eve or Mary who wept beneath the cross?

I know I have arrived at the site of my salvation
When I only recognize it from afar,
Where judgments were handed down.

It is true that my hand never grasped for an apple;
But worse,
The owner has appreciated its fruits.

- M. Mauss

Worry. Waiting on lab results. :( Baaaaah.

Her stance:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30725189/

Rebuttal:

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/30725189/