Poem for Thursday, August 11, 2011

Mea Culpa

I told you when you entered
the kingdom of heaven
Michael and the rest
of the angels would serenade
you, would pluck
crystal harps

that can stop your heart

for the second time.

I told you you wouldn't
go blind from the
celestial light

because you should be
used to our earthly sun
glowing all around you

jealously, orbiting you with
his head bowed to your
tan feet.

I told you
you won't bleed there
and if you do

it will be gold, coagulate and
I will suture your wound
with a righteous kiss,

I will kiss you
in heaven.

But how was I to know
you'd be handed
a blemished robe,
a bag of bones?

How was I to know
you'd be there
before me,
my lips light years
below you
(chapped and quivering)?