Have you ever been lied to?

You are Heaven’s daughter.

Some say “God is dead,”

and you say “I think not,”

and I say “That’s a free Sunday.”

What will you do?

Take offense?

It’s been thirty years since my last confession.

Here, let me tell you my sins…

I’ll start with my birth. Now you try.

For penance, let’s count the last ten years.

Tonight, I will have a dream of our childhood.

Mother will hold our hands as we wander the museum,

not so much from a fear of losing us,

but to transmit the shock of space and time and meaning.

Now that you are sure you have purpose, and I am special,

I can reflect on the fact that this meaning has no meaning;

it slaps to the ground and disintegrates

under the slightest wind.

Besides, do you know how

immense and ancient everything is?

Fine.

If you come to the museum with me,

we’ll find a drinking crowd afterward.

I’ll play guitar,

and you can dance.