Your mask in its golden
sarcophagus sleeps
folded in the wings of Isis.

Your servants carved
from the shawabty tree
answer for you.

Your soul
will visit your body
in falcon shape

perching on the ebony table
where feasts of duck
await your hunger.

Selket with outspread arms
guards your brain
your lungs

preserved
in alabaster jars
with balm and spices,

but you rise, lifted
on the cry live!
Live forever

and move at ease
past this dense barrier, these
things.