Sacrament
For a moment
everything was me.
The walls were breathing.
All of these strangers had my life,
because a butterfly
flapped it’s wings
just a little differently.
I was the butterfly too.
My body melted into molecules,
dancing, pulsing, burning.
All sensation.
All pleasure and pain.
I have no body,
but tuck in the womb.
screaming
I want my life.
I want my beautiful
messy life.
I roll and thrash.
Of course I do.
I am my mother,
patting my back.
God keeps opening
and closing doors.
She winks at me,
looking at herself in a mirror.
Life imitates art.
The great Wizard of Oz
pulls back the curtain.
I laugh
I am not quite sure
what laughter even is.
It sounds well and full.
I let it wave through my ears.
I am the music.
I watch the woman
dance before the fire.
She…
I wink
for the first
and infinite time.
5 thoughts on "Sacrament"
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One minor flaw it’s (it is: it’s its: its possession) Great otherwise…
AGH! Thank you for pointing that out. Definitely could have been my error, but I’d like to blame autocorrect. I type my poems in the notes of my phone, then copy and paste the next morning. I want to pass that mistake off on Siri.
What a great poem…and expression of just being alive!
Keep going, Madison! Siri will learn to catch up.
I enjoyed this poem!