No longer priest,
  he saves it as that one
  necessary cry to bless or curse
  in some wide-eyed moment
  of nightmare or victory,
  kept among words needed
  for the short breaths,
  last lines,
  those door-slamming,
  throat-closing,
  consonantal end-words
  cried in rage, pain, or love’s
  ecstasy . . . down,
  down to this one word
  left in heart’s chamber
  kept secret
  like a last saved bullet:
  God!