Stay Still or Rise

Image by Alex Boyd from StockSnap

A daily routine,
Of prayer and paroxysm—

What else is there to do,
But lay supine upon sheets:
The well-wrought body
Of a corpse, she feels is too much of
A bold thing to be called alive.

She asks: What does it mean,
To be alive?
Does it mean to die a death of boredom?

What else is there to do,
But sleep, and hide
Amid darkness, then close her eyes,
And sleep forevermore,
Or pray.

May she be saved from
Her own beauty, and from
Theirs…

That they’ve placed
Like roses upon the bed
In which she chooses to live.
May she rise from boredom
And listlessness

Into the auspices of
Sunrise, the daylight,
And the opportunity of chance.