Phosphosenes

Jesus’ stained glass
face and velvet tears 
on the altar 

when I dug thumbs
deep into my ears to forget 
His name 

&
pulled out a line of contempt
woven around a wedding ring

I pushed fingertips into my eyelids
while you told me I held the world
in my tiny pink hands

Psalms became paragraphs of 
Noonday Demon in the pew
when sermons
couldn't sustain me

Pray to a mother pristine as Mary, 
but the one I found
clawed holes into her feet

There is no nightmare, 
only a never-ending dream, 
only a figment of my 
indignation

HERE I AM 
my palms scream
when the creases refuse to meet 
fortune	
	but run parallel silently 
into my cup

Perception is the shattered glass
of a grandfather clock
ground into the floorboards
of my childhood home

and I’m holding the bat