Dear Void

I want to pray,
to sleep curled in the dandruff
of a god who keeps one hand
cupped over my life,
sealing me in so tightly
my hands lose themselves
in his thumbprints
each time I try to escape.

I want the tiny man
to perch on my shoulder,
hurriedly tightrope-walking my clavicle
when boredom slants my spine
and I bend down to taste the dirt.

I want to be the black hole,
the center of a swirling galaxy
of good and evil
compressing itself into the impossibly
opaque bowl of a girl
always asking for more.

Wow. It's been a while. I'm making a comeback, hopefully in a good way. I've been writing during my absence, it's not as if I've slacked in that area, it's just ficpress that slipped away. But 765 "story alert" emails later, I figured my inbox was telling me something. :)

Also a note about the piece-- I have not become a spiritual psychotic nut during my sabbatical, it's just a piece I need some critiquing on. Which I hope to find here, as I always do.