yes, I buried her alive

she tormented me
in the dark of the night,
she mocked at me
hiding behind the stars
in the light of day,
she envied me
in the silence
between all things,
she spied on me
like a mother
possessing her child,
and so I killed her.
yes, I buried her alive.

yes, I buried her
in broad daylight,
under the open sky,
with the blazing sun,
the quiet moon
and the distant stars
looking over us
as I dug her grave;

yes, I buried her alive,
as she shrieked and kicked
and rolled and flailed
her arms, her legs,
her hands and her ghastly face,
I watched her slip into
the quickening earth,
eyes rolling, open wide
like never before,
as she looked at herself,
at last,
even as she looked out
one last time,
into the world;

gasps for breath,
screams of terror and hate,
faded into the silence
of the ground
upon which I stood,
and I looked on
as the mud
that blinded her eyes
moistened
before they swallowed
the darkness
she had refused to see.

and then,
when all was done,
and the voices grew faint
and then quiet
inside my head,
I bowed down
to the contours
of the womb
we shared,
saying a prayer,
and giving thanks
for her life in mine,
taking her name.

and as I sat down
to take a fistful
of that sacred earth,
and hold it against my chest,
I said what I could not say to her
when she was alive,
and I knew
that she would return
someday
from that very ground,
to stand face to face
as equals in this game,
and call me
by my blessed name.

yes, that's why I buried her alive.