The Wooden Tooth Review: 08'-09' Issue

Double doors.

Our descent is complete.

I take to my tasks, eagerly, Once we pass through The tomb’s vestibule.

Candles—we light them.

Prayers—we pray them, Though mine I leave Half-complete With one eye open.

In haste I anticipate Our departure From the sepulcher, Feeling the stinging Pangs of midday hunger Piercing between my ribs.

Alone and sneaking, Surreptitiously, I scale ceramic stairs, Toe to tile, two by two, Up out of Christ’s tomb, Retracing steps, unawares.

Forgotten sun surprises; penetrates The double door’s wire-glass panes, Cutting through, breaking over My boyish face, casting A crisscross network Of shadow-striped light.

Finally birthed forth from The Easter sepulcher, my rapture Still inhabits Thoughts of contracted sweets 36