Sorting meds into the seven-day pill organizer
can be a kind of rosary—answering questions
and reciting allergies at each appointment, a litany.
Pinching the capsule between thumb and forefinger
like taking a wafer—washing it down the throat
with water instead of wine, you are a priest now
presiding over this holy rite. Affirmations in the car
or mirror are just prayers said with your eyes open.