Grass parts for my feet,

my steps fall on barren soil,

 

no blade brave enough

to cushion my soles.

 

I am God’s only mistake.

I court the jealousy of angels –

 

they bask in holy light

but no one knows their names.

 

Only the sky-broad desert,

with its shimmering parched breath

 

and bones deep in its bosom

is brave enough to defy its maker

 

and whisper to me:

                                Lilith