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Take in the gilded skin, and, with your finger
trail the lips, his Ouroboros fleshed in pink,
Cast the teeth out of silver to suck the wind
like a stream of flowing mercury,
Sculpt the gauntly handsome face,
carving out the ear, the cheek, and the chin,
Imprint your thumb into his throat,
plunging right through the sternal notch,
And, slowly brushing the wound’s release,
draft the line of blood along the chest,
And pin the garment of his loins
embroidering his flesh.
Entwine your fingers in the sinews shredded by
a squall of Roman whips.
Weave through his toes, graced with your lips,
your fingertips smoothing the soles.
Embrace your effigy,
his blood still warm, still blazing red.
And looking at his bludgeoned eyes,
you ask through bloody lips
How will you endure this state you’re in,
in love with God and loving Him!
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