We handed ourselves over as collateral, like priests

handing over wafers.

This is the body of [state your name].

This is the blood of [state your name].

We pledged an Oath, gave

our rights away with right

hands raised, repeating after me.

We solemnly Swore. Took

the obligation freely.

I [we stated our full names].

Stripped of all we knew: first our hair.

“Look down,” so we did. The red

barber chair, the white cape—clasped

too tightly at the neck.

When I looked up, they took my name.

Called me Maggot.

On wet grass, we threw our bodies down.

“One, two.” Louder, Basics. “Three,

four.” You want Mommy? “Five, six.”

First glints of sun hit the pink mountain peaks.

To someone else, I thought,

this morning is beautiful.

Without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion.

On my belly, eye level over blush-earth,

I inched forward like creek-bed carp, dirt

kicked in my open mouth. I spat everything out.