what an honor it is
animals made in the image, the heart, the strength of God
what a burden
what a reckoning
what a legacy
chosen to be partly of the heavens, partly of the wood
greasy, gritty, holy
licking our bloody chops clean before communion
washing the muck from our white robes; god-beast
can you be wholly anything when you are a half-breed?
i think we have it wrong
we do not have to tame anything
water crushes in waves and cushions your brain
fire comforts and ravages entire cities
divinity is just a different kind of wild
nothing is heavier than air
that fills an empty crib
hollow and crushing
hush little nothing
Is there anything more irreverent
than peals of laughter and the
of tiny dress shoes running in the hall?
Few are closer to heaven than disruptive children
bright church bells clanging in the sunshine.
how can broken people heal a shattered world?
maybe we can’t.
maybe we’re not
what if we just wait for the flood?
it cannot be much longer until God regrets, undoes
what we’ve said They’ve done
our veins pulse with shame, for shame
we are the drought
f o r s h a m e.
for how long have I
confused considerate with
convenient for you
I must stop making myself
more palatable for those who would not
consume me either way
lukewarm is safe but wholehearted is
the only way I can breathe; if it boils me alive then so be it
burn burn it away
like ashes from my skin, cremation
for supposed to be
i am new