by aq hanna
foolhardy and leaking and crazed
i had a motionless feeling. i confess i’m trying
to make an abysmal sinner out of this body: consider settling
on frantic relics for the crypt, ones that tell stories instead of lie
still. through confessionals, i bankrupt elucidation
for the exodus of our faults. me, your private
hurt all over the floor. i’m not arguing
against emerging shadows, just acknowledge
the source: my hands and their baffled expressions
of keeping you the peace or spilling movements
across populated notebooks. can we be better
for it with all the dishes in the sink, the ideas
we forsake in the name of love; practical theology
for better arrivals. if you want me to admit
sacrilege: baptism has never been proper
until it became pronouncing your name
with my head bowed. i prayed for an altar
to make this work, recited miscellaneous
commandments on devotion: honor
your father’s god for he is first
in line to your fidelity. the passive disciple is vital
when sundays require scripture
to keep decorum with all lowliness and meekness,
with longsuffering. meekness, temperance:
against such there is no law
for to serve is the furthest performance
of untainted affection and i cannot forget
how i swallow glaring properties
like morning breakfast milk and confuse
a dishonest mouth for charity. lover
believe me that what my bones know
rushes out in a fire like oracle testimonies.
i’m trying to ponder your borealis as it arrives.
i’m trying to realize your gravity, accept terminal
velocity headfirst but time is hallowed
when a week almost doesn’t drift by
and my hands, composed to find
your chest: promised land.
(verses: ephesians 4:2 & galatians 5:23
from the king james bible)
aq hanna is an emerging writer and a university student in the meantime. Their works call home in The Aurora Journal, Eunoia Review, Mudroom Magazine, and more. She enjoys surprise packages, basil on pizza, and has always wanted to appear on the show Jeopardy! For more of their work, visit https://linktr.ee/qoetry.