MeLaina Elise Ramos is a graduate of the Bennington Writing Seminars. You can find her recent work in The Bakery, Gold Wake Press, and Anti. She lives in Williamsburg, Virginia with her ever-growing family.
Let me be an Egyptian vessel.
Let me be a son of Horus, let me be Hapi of the baboon head.
Let me hold your lungs tight in limestone, let me be of some use
to you in the afterworld, let me hold what you need to breathe again.
Let me live in a time where the heart held memories, where the brain
was pulled out, needless, where the empty skull was washed out
with frankincense and palm wine, where the dead lay unburdened by the mind.
Let me be there for your judgment, let me fasten the wooden ladder tight
so you can make your way further to the stars. Let me love you simply,
like the baboon loves the rising sun and calls and calls, loud and lungful,
long arms held up in the heat to praise, chattering into morning for your return.