here I am in my white linen.
How tight the buttons are,
for I have never worn this dress before.
Baptize me in the unfamiliar waters,
red eyed,
like the priests.
Icy, bone chill.
Eyes open under the water,
I didn’t think it was supposed to look this dirty.
Oh! I did not know this was a funeral.
My hair is still wet.
Whom shall I apologize to?
Out of the holy waters I have come,
cleansed, face no traced lines of grime.
Still, my family persists in my wearing of mourning clothes.
Oh! I did not know this was a funeral!
The church candles burn upside down.
This was supposed to be a christening.
Who spilled the wine chalice into the baptismal font?
Now water and blood look the same.
Shadows drip from beneath my eyes.
Have I been crying?
No.
Just a trick of the light.
Could it be because of the cracked stained glass?
No.
Just a trick of the light.
Should I have come wearing black instead?
No.
Just a trick of the light.