And I stand here,
weeping
at the water’s edge.

My briny tears falling
gently into the bottomless expanse.

My eyelids brimming over
with satiny poppy petals
and sharply thorned white roses,
carving tracks of blood and watery salt
into my marble face.

We have come to the end of the world,
and it is not glorious or great,
but softly terrible.

The seraphim surround me,
their filmy wings clinging to my heart
and hands
and warm, breathing skin.

The hollow in my throat pulses rapidly,
as the icy chill of their touch
steals all the heat and love from my body.

They are not comforting.

They clutch close not to succor me
but to tear me away.

Their crowding brings no relief,
but rather a sense of dread.

“Then one hundred of your children must die each night”

Their soft whispers are no less biting than a full-blown shout,
and their words rip me to my core.

I cannot refuse–for Adonai has made me too weak a vessel.
My maternal love is less
than mine own selfish greed,
and I cannot refuse the bargain.

Better that I be safe,
that I need not endure his stinking touch,
his foul hot breath.

Better that I need not lie with him,
as a pig ruts in the mud.

Better that than have my children grow up
in a world without help or heed
of soft thoughts and softer hands.

Yes, better that I sacrifice them for myself.

For they are but thoughts and images,
wispy, non-corporeal beings
that belong to no one, that consist of nothing.

It is for them that I weep,
not myself.

They will never know the pain,
the suffering that I endure,
and for that I am grateful.

But still I weep for their lost triumphs
and petty grievances.

Still I weep.

i The title refers to the poem of the same title by Dylan Thomas
ii Poppies and white roses are traditional symbols of Lilith, representing death and sterile passion
iii This quote is taken from the Alphabet of Ben-Sira, and refers to the bargain that God made with Lilith; that if she did not return to Adam, 100 of her children would die every