To Paul, apostle, changer of our lives.

We left idols behind because of words

you spoke, and Kirke liked Timothy’s looks

but death worries us. There’s much more to learn.

We knew Hades—boring and gray, but safe.

You tell us the world will end. Our tired books

are quiet on that. Timothy left us

before we heard enough. Is it too late?

When will he return? (Kirke’s blushing red)

Will you bring us words? We promise to crush

our old statues. We will stop reading birds

in flight. But what happens—tell—when we die?

Write soon, please. Kirke will be good, she said.

                   Your brother in Jesus,

                   Nikos of Thessaloniki