:::

 

A few years ago we got silvered

questions we barely danced so fondly

questions that lay like anthems on the tongue

death breathed the moon of death oh so fondly.

 

Death takes your poison 

    & weighs your cold index fingers

this is how it helps your innate wounds

the older you get

the more a question stares through the coffin lid

the spirit of the question breathes on you.

 

The knife edge of the voice challenges you

give yourself to your breath oh so fondly

the wrinkles lift you into the salvation of light

and stir something in you that makes you fondly.

 

Give us gendered kitchens

and give us the clucking laughter of voices

you ask every crack you encounter like this

this is how gifts give themselves in return

while you shout into the abyss

the spirit of the question breathes on you.

 

I ask for forgiveness

the gray darkness has overpowered

the hardest guilt to get rid of

is guilt for something you didn't do

ask Christ wide awake in your abyss

the spirit of questioning breathes on you.

 

The banner of imminent death 

                    waves above your head

and you wave it oh so affectionately

the gift of a thousand angels

cries in your affectionate voice

the spirit of questioning breathes on you.