POEM - In the Movement of Atonement

In the movement of atonement
We place each of our transgressions
Into little mobile altars
And light them all on fire
Then watch their sadly singing spires
Of light reach up to a dreary midnight sky.

In the silence of atonement
We don’t use words like “money”,
We give and take them freely
And let their richness make us wealthy.
“You don’t find me attractive,” you say
Then collapse into my arms child-like and soft.
I pray just below my breath
A deepest kind of prayer for movement
That makes this search worthwhile.

In the movement of atonement
Our bodies are no longer ours;
They are slaves to the physics of remorse
And that part of the brain
That knows what it is we do tonight.

You wear me down
And then you wear me out

M C Biegner
8/3/2005