Splitting Her Skin

Touch me, bathed and processing slowly
from salty waters and high tide,
the ordinand for this priesthood
filled with obscene laughter,
and I might split in two,

body separating from soul
like a snake
splitting her skin
and leaving the remnants behind in the sand
with no pain but for the growth in the spaces
between bones,

the ligaments lengthened and separated with gentle tugging
at all the unclean and confusing junctions
of loss and humanity swirling around me.

Glance at these smooth shadows of thoughts and judgements
that are following me like a thief and you might see sweat rolling
impossibly from the poetry of my lips.

I slither
on my belly,
low and straddle the earth
knowing, finally, that I understand all this sin

and all the ways we have forgotten
we are one with the flesh of God.