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+I am a great pillar of white smoke.
+I am Lot's nameless wife turned to salt.
+
+I am the wound on Christ's back as he moans
+with the pounding of a hammer on his wrist.
+
+I am the nail that holds his house together,
+the long nail in his right wrist that points
+
+toward heaven.  I am that nail and I am
+the builder of the house, a strong house
+
+with a sound foundation.  I am not the only
+one who lives here.  I am the god of
+
+a race of dust mites who build monuments
+in my honor every day in the small dark
+
+corners of my house.  I destroy each one
+before I sleep each night.  Every morning
+
+there are still more.  I am unaware where
+all of them are.  There are too many.
+
+I am a god without a name in an empty house.
+I am an open wound festering in the white sun.