February 29th: EXODUS

February 29th: EXODUS.

~~~~~~~

An almost-year later, I think the festering Amalekites are dead now.


We spoke a language that belonged to different tongues–

Than the One that whispered us to life–

The curls and subtle rests of French

Behind windows fogged in lover’s vocabularies

The perfume of Egypt lured us close.

 

There were two kinds of slaves

The ones who were forced

And the ones who chose

But slaves nonetheless

Captive from birth

 

We tried to bury the idols

To put one last nail in the coffin of a god’s sarcophagus

That the pharaoh ordered built

Didn’t we know we were still in Egypt

Building the pillars of temples

For dead deities carved by our own hands?

 

Euphoric as the amphetamines are

They never rescued from reality

Never healed our leprosy

The Nile itself couldn’t quench our thirst

 

Our parched minds beheld mirages

Of vapejuice-thin promises

In between our serpentscaled eyes

Thinner than the air we swallowed

…panting

Supposing our lethargic thirst originated from each other,

Not the shifting dunes we settled in.

 

Fearless of what?

Cinderblock statues refusing to confront us?

Astrology-signs, comets that never penetrated the crust

Lingerings between the wish hour and sunrise

Panicked that windows would shut unbeknownst to us

 

Here in Egypt,

It didn’t matter that even morning was midnight.

 

Until Miriam called from the bulrushes

“Let my people go.”

 

It sounded like the Creator.

 

 

But there were plagues

Waterblood to starve our lips

Parting our nightly rituals

discerning the infection of your anxiety-care

as you cried what little tears you had left

Then the infernal frogs

Pestering us away from those languid tones

Begging for our return

Gnat-lice in our hairshapes

Flies of mormon congregation

Laying their eggs on my dead carcass

Our livestock began to die

Art, poetry, writing, academics

The aches we held for each other….

Fermented into blisters

We could barely stand ten minutes.

 

He called again

To let go

I clung closer to her

She felt warm, safe

And I found that for her, I had the audacity to stand fearless in front of God.

 

It wasn’t until the hail came

Searing and sizzling the sidewalks in a frozen bite

An iceburn that somehow arrested our cardiacs

While I walked for hours in the cold

Breathing steam into questions for the air

While the pellets of snow bounced

In zigzag freefalls

Off my black shackle jacket.

 

If that was okay;

Then locust-days

Consumed epidermal lusters

Leaving scars, wrinkles, eyecircles

Slaves.

 

It was our bonds and tally-scars

Long ago last year today

Molten red chains forged

Sustained in our souls

 

We were captives

Not to gods

Not to kings

But to us.

It doesn’t take Theology

To know that night will come.

 

Bondage began in black

And ended just the same

Quell the lamplight

Shut the windows

Mummify the day

 

We seized our searing

Burned our fearing

Crouched in separate manners

Like incense fills a temple

You could smell our fear

Until the pollution dissipated

Ashes alone left betwixt

The hieroglyphs of sin.

 

Moses came

Threw his rod into a snake at our toes

But we could make snakes too

Out of the lies flicking from tongues

Making us into gods

Just like in the garden.

Not lethal… just deadly. You know?

When you can bend the steel blade

That scathes into your soul

With your teeth.. that’s when

You know you are your

 master

DIY miracles made indentured deserts.

 

God didn’t want that.

In fact, He just wanted the firstborn of my idols

The throne I set her on

Desecrated by her warm cinnamon eyes

And the chain they clamped in my soul.

 

So swooped He to His knees

And starved three days

The thieves of His scepter

With a silence of night

Where I curled into knees

Crumpled under ice-cracked lamps

In front of the garage because

She played blaring distractions

After the election.

 

His knees were on the cement

Wiping the tears in my Arctic ocean eyes

His own firm holiness choking out of me

What drought and ice hadn’t molested

Frosting my lashes at the corners

 

Painting blood on the doorstep of my heart

Lines embordering a cell

Preventing my death

With His own.

He commanded that I stay inside one more night

In the silence

Ready.

 

And I awoke to find the throne empty

A pharaoh, loss of rule, lost of firstborn,

Begging me to leave,

Pointed hopelessly toward the Lamb

Sitting in her place.

rht.

 

 

 

 

 

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3 Comments Add yours

  1. Hey! I really like your writing style!

    Like

    1. Minty Lee says:

      Thanks! It’s not the best but i look forward to seeing yours 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Really? Well I posted something recently if you want to take a look!

        Like

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