e q n m t y _

i open my hands to heaven. i say:

“name yourself.”

                              ( who are you.                             what are you like.                               what have you done? )

His eye opens to me. it is a galaxy of sound. it is e minor thrumming in my blood, it is every song i have not heard. it is a man two hundred years ago tuning his mother’s piano with gentle hands. it is the old, rattling house she left behind, it is his smile when it covers him in dust. sunlight falls over him like grief through the open windows. sunlight falls over him like love.

i open my hands to heaven. i say (my teeth are clenched) i say:

“name yourself.”

His eye opens to me again and i am thrown weeping to the ocean floor with cracks in my hull. the sea roars in my mouth and i spit it from my lungs. three thousand miles away someone is playing black and ivory keys with no finesse but plenty of soul. rain hums on the surface of the sea as the dead wait to be alive again. i am weighed down by an indescribable love of all things. i am weighed down by His indescribable love of all things.

i open my hands to heaven. my soul is shaking. what He is and has done and will be is written in a thousand forms. i am not.

i whisper

“name me,”

and the room echoes.