Perhaps

RITE OF PASSAGE

(to Ana Carvalho and perhaps to Sylvia Plath)

If there is a difference between pain and suffering,

arrows and passion,

I will gladly take the crown of thorns,

and I will turn from boy to Christ.
My arms will be stretched out on a cross

not by force but by choice,

and I will make my blood drip

out of every single pore of mine.
Perhaps only then will you see me.
Perhaps, father, only then will you grant me
sight and self;

Perhaps I will then no longer be

a well staring at a sky.
Perhaps in that moment
I'll be, I'll be, I'll be.