the curtain is torn (guest post by holly grantham)

I take my shower in a bathroom small
there is no vent so
the steam
it billows and rolls
about the space
the hot water
pricks
my skin
and it is at once
pain
and
pleasure
Here
in this private space
I practice
once again
the dance of
love
and
hate
I try
desperately
to scrub away the proof
of my erring ways
the fact that
I have lived on sugar and chocolate
for the last
seven days
And it is confusing
because the act of putting
hand to mouth
is supposed to be
sacred
but I seem to always
ruin it
It is the nakedness
I think
that hollers loud
The baring
wide open and needy
that
renders me
undone
And I murmur prayer words
but they get lost
in the rushing
and I can’t escape
my skin
ever
The water
it washes over
my shell
this casing that
houses my
soul
and
I know that it
is a temple
but I
don’t believe it
I shut off
the flowing cataract
stand silent
and
brooding
I step out
of that
confessional
the one
that sometimes
spins dizzy
and it happens
In that moment
the curtain
is
torn
in
two
and I stand
foot bare
on
holy ground
For
John baptized
in the desert places
and
even if there is still
sand between my toes
I can now speak
the tongue of
saints
(my beautiful poet-friend, Holly Grantham blogs at a lifetime of days)
*Chasing Silhouettes now only $10 at Amazon.com; also available at Amazon.ca, ChristianBook.com and Barnes and Noble.
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