'And beware lest you lift your eyes to heaven, and when you see the sun and the moon
        and the stars, all the host of heaven, you will be drawn away...' - Deuteronomy 4.19

        In sacrifices, everything is a sign: whether the animal goes willingly
        to the altar and bleeds to death quickly, whether or not the fire flares
        swiftly, how the tail curls and the bladder bursts a dream, a stumble,
        a chance encounter, even an unexpected drop of rain and this day
        feels like the sound of your name caught in passing. There is nothing
        I can do and it doesn't matter that I've seen the oil from our love
        making slick on your skin, the way your face shone as if yesterday
        was a vision and you hadn't forgotten the depth of death's ambition,
        the smell of fear displaced in every step that breaks the seal of night
        so I wake with grief written with unbearable grace, almost as if
        I believe in fate or that love has many different names,
        perhaps as many as angels which only reminds me of light. Yes,
        I was dazzled and yes, I shouted your name. I saw the sun and
        worshipped the moon, I howled like crazy at every falling star and
        never thought of anything wise let alone how to say goodbye.

Copyright © Alison Eastley, 2004. All Rights Reserved.