Critical Moments of Convincing Faith

after Robert Hass

What makes love matter lies at the atomic level, in matter itself.
Daring graze on a quivering thigh, eager trace of the vertebrae, a slipped fabric

please! then a sensation of holiness, guilty baptism, both of us glowing godly
in the ungodly. You clutch me and I hold back Amen, as if your act of doing so

could be mistaken for prayer. The turning points of every great love are buried
in the gray mundane. Too often omitted, accidentally overlooked until after

the resolution, when the other half of the bed becomes its own winter,
and no one is there to laugh at you when your hair falls into your ketchup

like when we would sit in the back booth of the filthy McDonalds condemning
the sins of capitalism and American consumerism and we are taking short turns

sipping flat soda from the same straw and cracking up until the amber liquid
stings its way out of our nostrils, and we are almost crying for countless reasons

like snorting soda and inescapable classism and how foolish it is to lose your
virginity on a dorm room bed and how Pulp Fiction is overrated, the subject

of far too many brainless intellectual debates and how neither of us want
to say the thing we are both thinking, the words to make it all materialize,

that will give our blessed love a skeleton and skin and organs capable of
rupturing, both of us refusing to claim responsibility for giving form

to this breathing thing we share, that we know to be true, our bodies
becoming real, every small movement repeating Amen, Amen, Amen.

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 )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google 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 )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: