if the undoing of my body
is the doing of my spirit,
then i shall be undone.
this body is a cross,
and how i wish i could rid myself,
of its weight.
surely wood might be easier to bear.
idols of wood and stone we do not worship.
Baal has been formed from,
blushed skin and perfect breasts,
and eagerly we sacrifice our children to the lust of his appetite.
the unworthy wanderer 