saints walk misled pathways of forgotten gods
the silver ring taken from me and given back
i leeward bend so easily
the dappled color of a tempered embrace
i take this road with reluctant passengers
we go, we race
the atrophied umbilical tethers us to this place
one of many under
he finds use here and tells us what it meant
when did jesus become
so many sad things to weave around hollow lives?
when did he stop short of all things love and forgiveness?
we never look under our seats to see the hidden stage
but when the lights go on we recognize this gate
heaven under us
so much water at the bottom of a well
treading i look up and see your face and i know it is the last
the heavy knell of worship and its distracted rhythm
pulling back like a rainstorm unwilling to make us wet
my tread personified the trouble of sex
the violence
how we escape the things that keep us human
the things that keep us from being human
seeing through doesn't make it so
wander to the tight-edged roof of things to come
knowing doesn't mean i know
thinking doesn't untie the knot we willingly hang from this
hanging like so much unchallenged artifice we lean into it
our art carved out of us with tight scalpels
sent to alter the illusion
i reclaim the mystery
i take its breath
i pull it under me
i still remember where it fits
and the plagued membrane that stretched over it
forgiveness
forgiveness
