and i looked to the stars and i said,
consume me. i am flesh and bones and mothers-milk blood, tendrils of smoke curling from my ribcage like incense rising from the altar. a forest fire in my chest living and breathing.
i looked to the moon and i said,
consume me. i am church pew and offering, two halves, holding hands with myself when the bumps in the night take over the beating of my mourning dove heart. i am the coins covering the eyes of the dead and the water beneath the ferry, calm, unreadable, impassive.
i looked to the earth and i said
consume me. look at the dirt under my nails and the mud on my knees and know i was faithful. the thorns in my palms are my testimony. the dust and ash in my hair are closer to holy than anything i've ever let touch me.
i looked to myself and i said
consume me. the snake eats its own tail and gets nowhere but for a split second he is infinite and whole. that split second feels like an eternity, and that, my god, is worth the darkness resting in my own belly. i'll face myself there. i'll face myself.
