Resurrection

I remember when I was Jesus.
You made yourself naked for me,
and we fucked
under one window.
And there was a tree
And above that something
climbing from the sky.
You laughed when I said, I loved you,
Turned your face like the moon,
betraying only, it seemed, shyness.
I thought of the loaf of bread
swimming in the oven glass,
and I saw as your mouth puffed
with its body, torn
with your pure, white teeth.
I listened as you walked below,
from the cold cellar to the furnace room,
to the garage, down the street
to the bus stop, then to the sound
of the empty street the bus left behind.
Forgive me. it was me
who groped your breasts,
as if stabbing you.
And, on your cool desert skin,
I may have wept.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s