and so the laughter of devils became my lullaby.
Mothers were scarce, though I searched for them
sang for them; I was a mermaid with a tail of shame.
I had no face, so I stole other faces.
I never realized that they had been left by the devils, for me to find.
My faces were kissed, but the lips weren't mine.
My faces were mocked,
turned to nightmares;
I went to a wedding in a false face, and the wedding was mine.
The devils congratulated us.
I drowned a hundred faces in every spirit I could lay my hands on.
They grinned, vomited, and ate words the devils gave them.
I would have died, you know;
many times, I wanted to die.
In the time before my first breath,
in the time before devils,
I was loved. Someone told me that, and from then on, inside my head,
was a church made of those words.
Mothers were scarce, and so I turned to the Mother of All.
I said, I have no face. She said, use Mine.
Devils are everywhere, on top of skyscrapers,
wrapped around the wheels of city buses,
killing the best of us, killing the spirits of the brightest of us,
whispering in my ear like a flock of empty crows;
but someone told me that I was loved
in the time before my first breath; in the time before devils.
Someone told me that, before the beginning, I was loved,
and in a church made from those words, I kept living.
Here is a poem. Here is a little light from the Mother of All.
I said to her, in tears, I have no face.
She said to me, wandering child, use Mine.