Did I lose the real story when I came to this place?
In visions, I’ve seen
the darkness that was over the face of the deep
before the
“let there be”
brought this dead world back to life.
Black nothing still hovers here
smothering the memory
of every soul that enters the atmosphere.
We forget the celestial spheres.
My curse is I still half-remember.
When I saw you, I knew
who you were
even though you did not.
It was that knowing that drove me
to give up everything
to be yours.
Pharisees called me crazy,
and I’d think so too
had you not whispered secrets
only God could know,
had not invisible angels
visibly conspired with me
every step of the way.
Darling, I watched you cure lepers.
Darling, we raised the dead.
I read the book. I understood
you would have to die,
though no one told me
I would be crucified too.
When I was taken to the wilderness
to face Satan first
I was stunned.
Until I was staring into the devil’s eyes,
I believed I was nothing more
than a whore kissing your feet.
I did not know that there was such
a thing as the
Daughter of God.
I saw the icons. I thought
when you breathed your last,
I’d be kneeling at your cross,
weeping.
I did not know
having conquered death
I would be watching
from some distant paradise,
barely able to see your wounds
that would someday become
sacred scars.
Savior,
this heaven is hell without you.
Divine light lived in your eyes,
but here, surrounded by the holy,
I know
it was your humanity I loved most.
The blood that poured from your mouth
when they broke you
must have tasted like salt.
My king, know this as you weep alone in your tomb.
If I could, I would wash your feet forever.
I would hold your human head against my chest
and make you remember holy.
My love, do not listen to the demons.
Death is an illusions.
When you see that
and fly free
my king
my love
Son of God
Son of Man
fly to me.
My sacred lips will kiss you
until you forget the fire.
Burlesque Press 