The Sacred

Any time at all, the sacred.
Over the moon with that which calls.
Behind the diner, making God.
All night. Staring at the ceiling. Unable to breathe.
Break syntax in case of emergency, is what the doctor said.
Pick up after. Leave it as good as it was.
Did you wash? Are you clean enough to be jewelry now?
Want to see you, sparkler. Want to see you, altarpiece.
I require nothing from you, sacred. I take you whole.
Whole and puzzled and here we are at church everywhere.
Profane left behind, mundane made sacred. You’re the priest.
Also, the deity. Also, the adversary. (Also, no adversary, no deity.)
I am coming to look you in the eye and beg you to stand up.
Stop pretending you are anywhere else.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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