Fr Meslier on his book

When I began, the naked page
like my first woman,
her breast warm to my touch.

I dipped my quill, trembling.

With a few strokes
I cancelled seventeen hundred years.
My hand moved on, discovered
the shape of my thought.

Now I am drawing to a close.

I have walked decades hand in hand
with this, the only friend
to whom I speak my mind.
I will not long survive

the ending of our daily talk.

A C Clarke