bedroom prayers

God, or the gods, are invisible, quite understandable. But holiness is visible, entirely. (Mary Oliver)

Let me speak of angels once more. 

The rickety fan pointing towards my bed is one of them, I’m sure of it. // I seem to always know things like these. // An angel is anything that will scream for your absolution. // I leave it on all night, the constant murmuring of blades almost mystic. // Its wings are too fast to catch, a bruise is the only tangible thing it can give you. // Saint John lies comfortably on my year old flat chest; he has built a little cottage atop of my crooked scars. // He tells me to pack my stuff & start walking to Santiago, & one day –as long as it’s not too hot out– I'll listen. // Angels & saints, you see, they are like honeybees: // leaving their dusty fingerprints in everything they touch.

On my way back from the doctor I cross paths with the parish’s new priest. Tall, young, handsome, he pays in cash at the corner stone. // I want to ask him about the bees, which is to say I dream of dropping by the church one day, unannounced, just so I can look at him. // The air is full of silence & incense & just a touch of last night’s rain & he’s there– cleaning the pulpit, rearranging the chairs, sweeping the floor. // I want to drop on the cold marble, sink my knees into it, & start to cry. I want to ask him so many things, mainly if there is a place for me amongst it all. // Me, with my chemically induced simile of masculinity. Me, a furtive lover of that which mirrors. I want him to understand that I am beyond fixing, if there is fixing to be done. Most of all I want to be told I’m not evil.

Back home I pray to a piece of paper nailed to my wall. The fan still sings. // I keep trying to find these answers myself. & if God is watching He’s cheering for the courage it took me to get out of bed this morning. // If God is watching She’s suturing every one of my wounds with care. // If God is watching They’re marching with me down las ramblas that one oppressive day of June, // boots tightly laced, voice loud & proud, & rainbow in hand.