Saturday, November 23, 2013

Persian Rugs & Wooden Floors

I wanted him to love me the way I love Jesus. But, he just wanted in my pants. Should I be flattered? Because man wanted in my pants? I didn't want to go back there, come back here, to this and that space. My arms reached for the divine. My legs moved towards the sacred. My head, with eyes closed, longed to be taken. But, he just wanted in my pants.

I looked up at the clock, distracted by the sound of the hands clicking. It wasn't a distraction, though. It carried me towards a reality, a realization, a sudden understanding. Man and the Divine are not one. But, he thinks he is...connected. No, he is fragmented.

I am fragmented. There are pieces I have yet to retrieve, scattered along persian rugs and wooden floors, church halls and pews, front doors and kitchens. Even the music can't cradle me, can't save me, can't make me whole, not until I see, I see what I am.

He taught me how to dance which helped me learn how to speak the language of the angels, how to open my heart, but not how to manage the overflowing cup. Who will help me with this cup, which is greater than I?

I grabbed the sword...because he wanted in my pants and Jesus watched. Whether there or here, I am just woman. I belong to man. I am virgin and I am whore, nothing in between, and never at the same time, because man won't have it.

I choose Jesus over man every time because Jesus is not in man or is it that man is not in Jesus? I am reduced to sex. I am reduced to body. My feelings and thoughts don't have a say where they ought to, in the presence of my savior. But, he...he who opened my eyes, he who originally, gave...only took away.

When I was vulnerable in front of Jesus, I was only really vulnerable in front of man...he who only wanted in my pants. He had no interest in my mind, no interest in my heart, no interest

I'm supposed to remember how forgiveness can transform, how love can turn a caterpillar into a butterfly, how the sacred can unite. Today, I wish to forget because I remember the stench of disillusionment.

And in this moment, I persist to matter. Right now, I am, and he was never in my pants.

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