With Me

I.
My dark looks good on the floor.
Beautiful, pressed into Him.

Oil-slick and soil-rich,
I cave in and show Him the hollows of my soul—
the wailing, cavernous deep.

II.
My hunger consumes even me.

I make a home in the endless pit—
night without stars
to crack the sky with hope.

Give me the basin to cleanse in,
the bowl filled with sweet nectarine kisses.

I only know He goes down with me,
and I never worry that He’ll drown.

III.
My eyes turn dark against the char,
ashen and burnt.

Pieces of who I had been before the descent
flitter away in the wind,
on wings of the dead.

Give me bottoming out—
it becomes receptivity.

Moonlight Spiritus