flight

you wanted to jump                you have always
off the roof                              had a fear of flying
 
there is a shadow                    everything you hold
nestled in the basket               in your hands
of your ribcage                       is a stone
 
how shall we now                   it is time to empty
find the words?                       every pocket
 
let’s stop pretending,              place each choice
you and i                                on display
 
let us speak                            small birds
plainly                                    pushed out
 
let us not speak                      onto the branch
at all                                       of need

Amen

Let this be a spiritual practice
of sorts: finding
the right order for the right words,
or whichever words
I can muster.
 
Let me say stone. Roll it around
your mouth. The taste of it
an empty tomb.
Filled with shadows.
 
Let me say sword. The power
of life and death in the tongue.
How everything is divided.
How much I regret.
 
Let me say bread. Pair it with wine.
Find someone to join you at the table.
Sit until you are empty of speech.
Sit until you are full of blessing.
 
Then slouch bedwards.
Curl into the arms of your lover.
Say your evening prayers.
Make your declarations one to another.
Let it be so.