A son of the men of “E,” I wait a son. Names repeated, recreated over time: Aed and Edmond, Ellis, Elmer, Ellis Sean. The name of Aed carved on a gate at Clonmacnois, Ellis on a stone in Louisburg. And Ellis Sean, to be. I wait and smoke, within. The doctors come and go, their knives determining her motherhood, nativity of Ellis Sean. The women come and go; men’s wives give borning to their coupled fantasies. I hold the ring I gave her twisting under my fingertips; she did not want it off. Vessel, vassal, virgin queen— perpetuate this strangeness that the carving will continue. Some fashioned prayers, or hymns of healing, words from mists or solid ground, depending on the madness of Au Maoileoin in their veins. I pray my love will be translated through your body, and their madness. Aed and Edmond Ellis, Elmer; Ellis Sean—we wait a son. I pray our love will be translated through your body.