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