The Last Rites

A green plantain leaf,

I sit among rows of sinners like me

Trying to undo the dead
I rise above my sins
To commit a greater one
I break ritual for the dead

For every ball of rice I place

I also hold a closed fist within
I place a living betrayal
 a broken promise,a half formed nod
an unfulfilled relationship
an unshed tear, unspelt words
I place away forever
unspent grief
Buried beyond mounds beneath
Living Dead bonds
For every rolling moment

A rolled up living memory

For every ritual step
  I place  not for my dead

I place what has failed me
and where I failed

Last rites never done

For dead still living never failed
I win among sinners
And float across waters
both, my faith, my sin.