Dying in Bars

I was wondering what it was like chasing stars the way you do

I had been wondering what it was like flying over Neptune and Jupiter

And laughing in God's presence the way you do.

You sparkle fiercely, the way a diamond cuts the skin, you burn.

Sitting three steps over and two leaps from your chair, I glanced and glanced

Hoping to find a way through the maze of drinks and slurred words

And too loud music and find a way to melt into you, to take your skin

And melt it into the dark corners of this stained bar-napkin night

So that I will never forget what it was like to know what flying felt like.

For ten minutes I felt what sulfur and kindle must feel when they meet

And for ten minutes I felt the splitting of planets and the lonely serenading of black holes to one another

And felt God in the small things: your lips, your skin, the way you clasp your hands.

For ten minutes I died.

You who point to the stars and talk about God

You who point to the stars and talk about God and speak of the first hours and of the Two who sprang from His whispers

You from whom fear and ceremony bleed like disease spilling from your parched and yearning lips:

I say, look to Our destruction and see birth in these corpsi, see the universe in Our skin, see the blessings bestowed upon Us in the ashes circling Our feet.