Fr Meslier on his book
When I began, the naked page
challenged
like my first woman,
her breast warm to my touch.
I dipped my quill, trembling.
With a few strokes
I cancelled seventeen hundred years.
My hand moved on, discovered
the shape of my thought.
Now I am drawing to a close.
I have walked decades hand in hand
with this, the only friend
to whom I speak my mind.
I will not long survive
the ending of our daily talk.