Ancient memories of ancesters long lost–
progenitors whose form I share and nothing else,
walk with me now beside the sea.
Midnight sea wrapped in sky cold sky,
dark cold as moonless snow.

A rock bound shore where grit-shell broken
sand black sucks insistently at flakes of sole–
droplets of soul that I forget to tell
to Go to Hell! You Don’t Exist!
They mock me, floating phosphene beams of need.

And I know quite well the sea does neither
want nor need pieces of the soul in me.
And I will caste no bread in honor
of the Priests and Nuns who pray
vulgarity virginity for my salvation–
empty pious prayers for grace
which God would freely give away
if I should ask in righteous mind
but don’t.

So walk with me old men, old women,
ancient of days. You’re welcome
for the immortality I carry– 
structural remnants of you in me, the only immortality
that I can surely promise–
now will walk footprints
as near to yours as any on this shadow free, cold
night, cold and alone, by the moonless sea.