Salt // Sight

You said to me that you couldn't find your home in my nail beds
So I turned myself to stone
Hoping to become the sacred place where you could see god
Instead you saw an ocean, as deep as it is vast
And you lost yourself
Two planks in the eye that saw only dust
I am too much of the pillar of salt; the fig tree; the orange rinds and sticky hands;
Cotton moon on salt lake
Broke my hands to fit into the moon,
Waiting for this kingdom pledged
To come barefoot in ash and sand
Asked too much of the desert
When all that I needed was the honeyed words
Of a home
Filled it with bats, tried to see beauty upside down
The funny thing about wanting to see out the back of your head
Is that you always end up looking backwards
I am too much of the pillar of salt
Tried to grow Himalayas from the small of my back
But the skies forbade it
Too much moves the sea; and mountains are not made to tremble at the touch of another
I am the whale at the bottom of the ocean,
The big fish, Ishmael,
Three coins in my mouth
I wanted to hold you in my stomach until you found god
But god got to you first
Pink fingered and raw as the day you came into this world
Raven told you of the man you could become
Broke fists like waves against your chest
When you said you wanted to be called home by someone
Who can look into the sky and see oceans
Blindly tore down the pillars
Cut my hair in my sleep and called myself home
Made of wilted fig trees and broken bones
Salt flats and desert sand