Jericho Brown: Nativity
I was Mary once.
Somebody big as a beginning
Gave me trouble
I was too young to carry, so I ran
Off with a man who claimed not
To care. Each year,
Come trouble’s birthday,
I think of every gift people get
They don’t use. Oh, and I
Pray. Lord, let even me
And what the saints say is sin within
My blood, which certainly shall see
Death—see to it I mean—
Let that sting
Last and be transfigured.
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