He said if I was,
I would get there -- to Heaven.
She said we should shave our legs.
Another He told me he loved me.
I believed him and
Let go everything in a breath.
A breath!
a sigh a slither a touch a shiver
I forgot everything.
The line between me now
and the holy me,
the one
he says
God says I should be:
It is so fine
a razor’s edge even.
It cuts when I touch it.
No unbitten apple, no snake,
no nothing --
Can undo what I did.
I wake in the arms of a man who is not God.
I shave my legs and
Move on.
This kicks ass. I like the razor imagery very much - fine blades being as useful in poetry as they are in real life.
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