And in some sort of sick, backward baptism I am cleansed. The smell of smoke in your hair and the feel of your hot breath on my skin. The unclean things that only I can feel. God has found me in these secret times. He grinds in and out and through my mind. He's got no time for kind words, he's just dropping in for an indefinite amount of time. I was his queen today and for thirty minutes in the quiet times last night. God shine your grace on me, stay awhile won't you please? Spread your love and plant the good seed in me. Tell me, how long will it be before you kiss my whispering eye and hand me her rosary? And, people are always telling me that I believe in a myth. The say you can't rely on words, so I just sit there cryin' on the bathroom tile, hoping for some strength. I pray that one day you will give me reason to have faith. And for seven years I have done this, and you tell me to be patient and trust and to never let myself rust.
So tonight I stand and wave goodbye. To you and to your trinity.
-M. Anderson (Written some time in spring 2009)
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