TWO SMALL FISH
I see you once
a month,
the calendar
like a net I sink
my hands into.
I know how to let
two small fish
feed five thousand,
how to kneel
at the stained glass
of a gill: our forks
tangling, my lips
at your throat.
Alone, I multiply
snatches
of brightness
until a night
catches us
not yet frightless,
& the last thing
I see is your eyes’
golden lattice,
blue breaking
behind it.
—from Rattle #45, Fall 2014
Tribute to Poets of Faith
__________
Celeste Lipkes: “Having grown up in an irreligious household, going to church was, in many ways, an act of defiance. When I was diagnosed with a chronic disease at the age of 15, my faith was a framework on which to hang meaning. Christianity backdrops much of my work; writing often feels like God kicking me under the table, nudging me toward what is important.” (website)
