all the unborn allelujahs still and silent the body
broken but bread no longer reaching my mouth gold
cross hanging empty its gilded assurance suspended
in the dark and neck less barely there another
Erica bows her head and waits for a sign former self still
full of a certain faith this chest pressed full of holy
ghosts shaken down for good measure shivering
hearth that once blazed with tongues the language
of incandescent favor and angels unbridled
jaw galloping and glorious head thrown back wild
keeling wind at my back before and behind me hands
lifting so light every burden no longer
mine my body a temple a tempter an atonement no
nothing my god this blood couldn’t buy back from the grave
offer me again sanguine life unending born again
promise canopied from each limb the deathbed’s posts
queer tree sing of a sacrificial season second chances
resurrecting all I’ve buried I want to believe in burning
stars holy invisible in the too-bright blue of mourning
teach me to trust the sky vaulting silence pierced
with unseen light I push fists in my eyes and they appear
vacant open this wound where I once buried prayer
xéno seed sunk deep in this earth god’s sun not forgotten
I yearn for another home a germ of hope my vining tongue
zealous for fruit its skin these lips studded with thorns.
Erica Charis-Molling is a poet, educator, and librarian. Her writing has been published in Crosswinds, Presence, Glass, Anchor, Vinyl, Entropy, and Mezzo Cammin and is forthcoming in Redivider. She’s an alum of the Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference and received her M.F.A. in Creative Writing from Antioch University. She currently lives in Boston, where she works as Education Director for Mass Poetry.