Start with the cut that severs all connection with the earth.
Start slowly so the body can re-learn how to be whole after each amputation.
Start by living elsewhere, in another part of town. You’re better off not knowing.
Once you start giving things up, it becomes difficult to recapture the joy you felt in the presence of an adored partner or possession.
What happens to the worshipper who makes a gift of her worship and learns to do without?
What happens to service when the floor falls away and every salaam is infinite?
Let the child and the ram both go and place the knife on top of the stacked wood.
Too long have you thrilled to its militant conversation with the whetstone.
Let it go out like a phoenix, come back as a black wing.
Stay in the wilderness until someone calls you by a name you’ve never heard.