Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me, otherwise kill me.

I am not yet born; Forgive me For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words When they speak me, my thoughts when they think me, My treason engendered by traitors beyound me, My life when they murder by means of my hands, my death when they live me.

World is crazier and more of it than we think, Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion A tangerine and spit the pips and feel The drunkenness of things being various.

None of our hearts are pure, we always have mixed motives. Are self deceivers, but the worst of all Deceits is to murmur 'Lord, I am not worthy' And, lying easy, turn your face to the wall.

World is suddener than we fancy it.

Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me, otherwise kill me.

I am not yet born; O fill me with strength against those who would freeze my humanity.