attempts at holy water

when i learned about holy water
i started to hoard it. i had seen 
that everything precious runs out. 
the drought will take the sky.
cupboards will go hollow & sing.
you & your father with eat 
candy spearmint leaves in the car
until your teeth ring. 
i had a flask i would fill 
from the baptismal fountain
at the back of the church. 
then, i started to resort to mason jars
& water bottles. stacked them all up
in rows on my shelf. blessed hands
& felt nothing. i began to devise
a downpour. a way to soak myself 
in the holy water in the hopes
that it might make me feel freed
of some unnamed snare. my body was 
growing into some kind of snake.
i spent evenings on my belly 
slipping between holes in the world.
when it rained, i would go out
to get soaked. forget the vessels 
with the church holy water. joined
a pouring out of the august sky.
some slit divine artery. my bones 
as wet drums. i wanted the rain 
to never stop to become a salamander 
on the humid moss-bearded land. 
i would return inside. peel 
each piece of clothing from my skin
& lay them on the floor. 
whatever i was trying to get rid of
has never left. instead, has become
like a gargoyle in me. rain down my back.
i still keep jars of water on the windowsill.