I Will Leap, I Will Dance

1. I am nailed to the architecture of agapē and caritas, my name branded in the wooden antennae of love. The yellow sky caresses the face of the Other, who runs toward oblivion, caught in the rigid claws of angst. Black night upholds my outstretched arm. I dribble alms to les misérables. 2. Ever-expanding pool of light, you encompass me, you pull the dull scimitar from my waistband. White marble breaks. Fire and blood tango on the ripened hill, a melon of earth still burgeoning within. An avalanche hammers the frangipane on my plate. Eat for love’s sake. Yes, eat and drink to sustain the glory of hidden gods. 3. Water spills into baskets across my back, bathes my legs in tepid particles of mud. Braided clouds frown on the way we live. We say future but crave only now, repeated infinitely in time beyond time. The ransom of the divine will be paid in freshly minted bitcoin. I perch on the balcony, alone. I will make my leap to faith. I will dance in silence on hallowed ground.