on/off 

in the church of my blue 
there is a man without a face
always flicking the lights. in between each blink
the angels come & eat our hair 
until we are bald as blarney stones. 
sometimes the switches in the house
multiply in the night.
i will wake up to find a wall
of light switches, never sure which one
is actually tethered to the glow.
you become frustrated with me
for my perpetual indecisiveness.
i will walk in the ice heaven 
just to tell the gods, "i am hungry
for a green life." aren't we all though
hungry for the green life? 
the lack is always a limb. the one
you search for. the one you lost 
to time's cruel pruning. i have 
a vision of a jungle that is 
wild because we are all intact.
little beasts of many heads & many teeth.
dear god do i wish i was a creature tonight.
i don't want to have to shut
the windows & be bipedal all over
the house. instead, i would like
to let the light switch make
an angel of me. wings that fall
like cherry blossom guts. like the smell
of flowers asking the questions 
you're not supposed to ask
like "what if i chose another pair 
of hands?" like "who would i be
if i never knew him?" the angels shush
the congregation. the church is made
of popsicle sticks & shadows. 
i saved a seat for the other decision.
you say, "what i can't handle is
the back & forth." i am a prophet
of the "what if"? let's take back
dusk's violet eyebrows. 
tell our secrets until our mouths
fall off. they spend 
the rest of the night as moths.