disgraceland

before my first communion at 40, i clung
to doubt as Satan spider-like stalked
the orb of dark surrounding Eden
for a wormhole into paradise.

god had first formed me in the womb
small as a bite of burger.
once my lungs were done
he sailed a soul like a lit arrow

to inflame me. maybe that piercing
made me howl at birth,
or the masked creatures
whose scalpel cut a lightning bolt to free me----

i was hoisted by the heels and swatted, fed
and hauled through rooms. time-lapse photos show
my fingers grew past crayon outlines
my feet came to fill spike heels.

eventually, i lurched out to kiss the wrong mouths,
get stewed, and sulk around. christ always stood
to one side with a glass of water
i swatted the sap away.

when my thirst got great enough
to ask, a stream welled up inside;
some jade wave buoyed me forward;
and i found myself upright

in the instant, with a garden
inside my own ribs a flourish. there, the arbor leafs.
the vines push out plump grapes.
you are loved, someone said. take that

and eat it.

-mary karr