John 14:2-4 

what we didn't know was that heaven would be lonely
& how much we'd miss wanting things.
a plate with a scoop of whipped cream,
four of us huddled in the center,
barefoot & asking each other 
if anyone has seen an angel.
we don't talk to each other because
heaven meet every need we could ever have.
we're grouped together because we 
all like the same temperature & humidity.
none of us remember where we're from
but i remember that when i had a body
i used to burn my mouth on hot french fries
& now when i eat french fries i never
burn my mouth,
i can't, it's impossible.
everything here is smooth
even the stubble on my face
like a forehead of a rabbit.
sometimes the plate grows
green vines all around
& i follow them
hoping they might lead me away 
from here to a different heaven.
when i first got here i thought
i loved the others more
than anything but 
it is tiresome to love everything 
about other entities,
we have nothing to talk about
we nod to each other
& we ask each other's names
even though we know
none of us have them.
i once wanted to be disobedient
& ate the green vines by the handful
but they turned to licorice 
when they touched my mouth.
i wish i was a terrible human
in the bone life because 
now i'm terrible in heaven
& i have no where to go.
i crouch alone & pretend
it's afternoon,
which i remember as being
like the sky dropped
a spoonful of honey
on herself.
i sit alone, 
walk on all fours out of curiosity
& occasionally i love the loneliness 
how everything is what i want 
& what i want only, the unbridled
selfishness of it all.
i scan the sky for angels 
& remember insects with with colorful wings.
the vines grow 
& i lay down on them,
overhearing two of the bodies in the distance
ask each other 
what is your name?