Searing

I go to church Saturday night.
these pews stir confessional and the silence here makes my stomach knot like first kisses.
I have work today but I cannot move.
the door always unlocked here but no-one steals bibles or cushions chairs piano keys or table-runners.
thieves fear god, I fear life so I go to church
because here it feels appropriate to lay insane amongst mourners.
the organ-player strikes.
he’s practicing and he doesn’t see me here, top left pew, upper side.
he hesitates to play.
I whisper, play.
I see a family
& I see a boy dipped in a river sixteen
times for the sin of differences.
I hear organ so accusatory my neck-hairs, ears burn & the cars runby outside like nothing changed,
nothing changed
nothing ever even changed.
A boy weaves between the pews
Otherside,
his mother takes stained-glass stills.
If I cannot move,
I will sleep in this pew tonight.
No-one sees me here
grave-robbers will poke at my feet & ask for tithes
Sunday morning will have spring-dressed matriarchs with soft bellies holding me limp against chest, offering water and oblivion.
Against all reason, I spite them.
Leave church & clock in.