AFTER US, THE FLOOD

C.T. SALAZAR

 

After I realize our bodies are chimneys full of rain.
After we shake out the crows roosting there. After
 
I visit this sanctuary with Noah and Noah’s Name
-less Wife, I name her third dove wreathed in wonder
 
weather. I name her church built, and built
to be empty. Here, where the animals have names
 
to tether their drowning bodies to, here where a body
can be a blank—we’re holding hands because every temple
 
we trespass is a mouth hungry for bodies shaped like ours.
Noah’s Nameless Wife unties her hair and says god will me
 
a sail catching wind. I am a burden breaking
water, she says. Is the anchor down?     good she says.
 
I’ll break the boat in two.

 
 

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