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A Psalm of Yisrael: A Song of Beauty, in the Struggle (II)

God, morning and night

I feel the caresses you lace across my clavicles and the design you finger in long lines up my thigh

You make each hair on my neck rise like hot air

You turn my neck hot

And you stop me from breathing

Knock air out of my gut like a roundhouse

I want to spend days in Your Room

Get lost in the House and Corners of You

Form burrows deep into each crease and gasp for sweet breath after emerging from hours lost in your splendor

Morning and night,

I want to lick honey off your spoon and your saplings and your teeth

Play hopscotch across the patterns of your tongue and eat grilled cheese out your palm with the fontina oozing through your fingers

I want to open your flower buds with my fingers

and watch your seed sway soft in the wind

I want to grow old in your magnificence and find youth in your face

I want you to look at me like I look at your sunrise

Like I look at you splaying yourself all colorful-split-thigh across the horizon

- all glitterful-dancer-arch across the heavens -

I want to memorize every letter you live in and the white spaces between them

I want you to take me for a ride and I need to lose myself silly with my neck arched back and my toes curled lips quivering

I need ecstacy

and you have it

I thumb your pages like a hungry-thing

searching for your crumbs

I feast your wisdom like a queen at banquet

I know your Plenty and your Sparse

I feel your Playful and your Harsh

I just want to know who to praise for the ability to praise

and learn how far up the chain I’ve gotta go ‘til I find You

‘til I can kiss your feet

I just want to You to kiss me already


Then bite my lip and spit me down to the bed of your earth

Split me down the middle

And don’t sew me back

Remind me, morning and night

that the struggle makes us beautiful

Crack me open, then make me know

that it’s our shattered shell that make us whole

that it’s my shattered shell, God,

my shattered soul, that makes me whole

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