Monday, September 10, 2012

God Says "Wait"

In the late harsh dark
set rigid as the point
of a compass
made of ice,
one breath is pain.
It is cold like fear. It is
fear, swaddled and laid beside
my flesh, like a stillborn child
that I might get warm again.

I wake a demon. Not waked
complete, but with hands
wrinkled empty like paper
thoraxes, hanging claws.
Sleeping screamless and open-mouthed,
burning like the void,
my eyes are hell.

I say please take it,
the bone in my throat.
I say please.

God says “wait.”

In the bright harsh day
it is near as death. It comes
to my ear and breathes.

I say please take me,
I won't sleep. I say

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