Baptism

Your body is a church whose doors close to me
I’m waiting on your steps trying not to tremble
I don’t know any other place that I can go and pray inside of
And so I still when I’m close to you
Sometimes my skeleton shivers electric
And why sometimes I shudder heavy in this heavy coat called [mine/my?]
When I was a boy I heard this song of a God on my bedroom floor
Singing out from between hands clasped tight as a lock
Your memory carries a similar tune
For the ghost of your heart is a holy place and as most holy places are
When you hold me inside of it I feel like a child
We are plates of sorrow, polishing ourselves off
I have my mouth sitting open with nothing but this shaking
Shaking inside from being so close to your feathers that I know
Why the wind goes and comes back
And I know how awkward the weather vane feels in its iron throat
That all it can do to announce the footsteps of kings is to spin and spin and spin
In the blue of your eyes I feel small
I feel big enough to touch a myth
Your skin baptized me and I’ve been trying to find my way back to that river
I don’t know any other place to go and pray inside of

- Anise Mojgani