The Sacrificial Lamb by Josefa de Óbidos, 1670

Abby Reese Asimos

Smiling while teaching,

The priest piles his yesterdays like yellow Easter eggs.

If the lamb listens close

She figures she can figure him out

In tandem with God.

Pupils looking to incarnation, bypassing the wretched sheep

Snickering about the “pick-me, pick pick-me”

Too clean to live.

The priest speaks of his charming childhood

Climbing the neck of a front yard tree,

Eating the blackberries at the top ‘til his pajamas lay stained

And his guts hurt.

The lamb knows blackberries grow on bushes, like flowers

[See “-el” see “burning”]

But the story’s so sweet she almost believes the impossible.

If she’s tranquil, maybe he’ll pet her on the way out.

Desires the lamb has to keep to herself

Lest she risk being unchosen.

[See “am-” see “-whack”]

He makes her want to make no noise.

The lamb will be killed again and again till she puts up a fight

Which will be never

Since sweat is forbidden on the Sabbath

And a temptress would have to die some other way.