your affections on my lips and sent
them rising away. My tongue, a
millstone about my neck,
burns with coals now and
my words are ashes falling
in gray, dull sorrow
on the bruised and heavy knee.
I wash myself in the wool
you set out for me, and empty
my belly but for the bitter
bite of your unheard reply.
I would you were God to hear
my prayer and forgive me now.
