Tonight, I am a shooting star. I stand naked, astonished
by my own beauty, by the light seeping out of the tips of my
fingers, the knobs of my knees, the buttons of my back.
Tonight, I shine like a thousand constellations rolled
into one, Pleiades and the Virgin and Saturn with her
crystalline rings thrown in for good measure.
Tonight, I dance in time to the beat
of the stars as they sing and spin
in their watery heaven.
Tonight, I touch God with my intestines. I can hear
Her in my belly whispering that there is something else
and nothing else. That I am, and I am is enough. That this,
tonight, this is heaven, here, touching Her face and singing
Her songs and dancing Her dance, My dance that ripples
down the buttons of my back into my toes.
The thing with me is this. I believed
It when my daddy told me
I was Heaven’s Child.
Burlesque Press 