God said Let there be Light,
and there was light.
And God saw that it was good.
I tried to hold the glow of His words in the prism
of my body,
but I had consumed too many shadows.
I thought that if I wanted light I would have to
make it myself
so I began setting fires.
At first under the bushes in the neighbour’s yard,
then in the cemetery behind my house,
burnt souls recognize each other by the smell of
I was an ember looking for heat
so I set fire to my clothes
Each thread a burning bridge.
Each button undone, a sacrifice
until my closet was a mountain of ash.
Every word I spoke
a smoke signal to boys attracted to things that
And then he appeared
offering to put out my fire.
His lips were shaped like hunger,
but I did not notice his starvation
that he would crack me open like the spine of a
un-roll my paper thin skin,
and cover me in the taste of guilt.
Every night looking for the same ending
not knowing he was reading the wrong
that, my body was not the Bible.
How long would I sacrifice
before he would worship at my altar?
Everybody wants to come to the party
but no one wants to stick around for
Too many have chanted my name
All heat and no light.
All ash and no fire of resurrection
so if I am ash,
then leave me unstirred
until I begin to form clay.
Let me go back to the Genesis-
shapeless, ready to be made new
Hand me to the Potter.
Let Him pour his water back into my
spin me until I am dizzy from His love.
Mould me, then leave me to dry in the
till I am hard like the rock of His foundation
so that when He strikes Himself upon
Then I will catch fire.