You crawl up into your bed and

Pull the worn thin blanket over your head

Trying hard to momentarily

Escape the shame you feel

What is the worth of soul and skin?

Price plummets down as each one comes in

As if such short-armed men could ever reach that sacred place

I am the God of Rahab

I see past flesh and culture

And never do I mistake the songbird for the vulture

Your life burns pure before my eyes

I name the virgin and I crush the flies

They dress you in scarlet but all that I know

Child you are white like the snow

Bangkok sun creeps out red-faced but without shame

It knits in fire upon the hills

The purity of your name

Other names are knitted too but black the thread they form a noose rising slowly but steadily

A gallows for grown men to hang their own hearts

I am the God of Rahab

I see past flesh and culture

And never do I mistake the songbird for the vulture

Your life burns pure before my eyes

I name the virgin and I crush the flies

They dress you in scarlet but all that I know

Child you are white like the snow

Pour from your soul the rice your family needs to eat

Like Mary pouring oil on

The Son of God's feet

A child should sleep through the dark in peace

Another night's over, light comes to the east

Pull your blanket over our head

It's us who are dead