I know well by now Your method – sleep
deprivation;
the slapping of cheeks, prodding of ribs,
shouting my name every time I close my eyes,
the inexorable grilling, the demanding of answers
from the dim reaches of the past,
from the darkness out of which I have emerged,
wanting the information,
the information, the information –
commanding me to divulge Who I am and Who sent me.
O child of God, the ultimate infinite and eternal
requires more than soft gloves and sweetened tea.
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