For Another Annie

The hardest thing to say to Her is “Hi,”

but, if you blink, She might not take offense.

With grace, She’ll wink. (She often gives the by.)

Don’t do it twice; She’ll leave you in suspense.

I take my bread and water in a cell,

and, when I feel the knell, I won’t presume

the meaning or the object of the bell.

But once, it tells me, “Bury;” once, “Exhume.”

It is some holy trick I cannot match

that you could have the innocence to reach

inside a tabernacle—break the catch—

and have the Body thank you for the breach.

I only heard the prophet talk about

true beauty; what’s within is what’s without.