Once
when I was drowning
I held on long enough
to make an act of contrition

that was long ago
when I knew what to be sorry for
when I knew how to confess

that was before we made
an unholy sacrament out of our
love a brutal religion out of our innocence

now as I go spinning down
for the last time
I struggle in the flood
not for any absolution
but for your approval
of my perfect death

Poem by Al Pittman from Once When I Was Drowning.