Waiting other things i LL never Learn

Waiting & other things i’ LL never Learn Brooke Stanish

Poetry 22

I tried to grab God’s face & press it close to my own, but it didn’t work— it’s not so much the fall that gets you as it is the always falling eternity of arms outstretched beyond this always never enough, thinking infinity is a word I could write on my hand in ink more temporary than the skin peeling off my knuckles from washing them too much—a symptom of impermanence, a lack of temperance—& other words that make us think we know what we are. Trying God is a funny game we like to play with ourselves when we feel our lips bleeding shut & our hands slipping off & all of the world rolling away. As soon as we’re done playing, exhausted by our own voice & this hollow of ever-present lack is when we hear it: the wind of a winking eye, the breathy music of flame, the harp, the rain, a laugh.