divinity poem 2 by Madden Armstrong

 

last night you offered me your hand

i hesitated like i always do

the last time i was in your house i held your food on my tongue until

it dissolved into sand

i was waiting for it to taste raw

             (i could bite down until i bleed)

when your children offered me the meal i forgot the words i should say

             (thank you doesn’t cut it)

i told you once before

             (very sternly)

that this is your last chance

and here you are again offering that hand

reaching out for my heart, an organ the size of a closed fist

             (and just as defiant)

 

recently you stopped offering your hand, choosing to grasp instead

twisting what should not be yours to touch in the first place

you perform miraculous works with those hands

             (making me cry over ordinary things)

but i should not tell you things you already know

i hope you are not (too) smug if i am in your house again