You should believe me. I was a disciple. I washed his feet with my tears and perfume. Gave him my portions at meals. It used to blind me, how hungry he could get. How the plane of his forehead could bead with sweat, how intimate it was to watch it roll down into his eyes. You never think humanness can break you, but it will. One ill-timed glance at the valley of his inner elbow, one too-ragged inhale, and you will catch yourself looking over your shoulder on your morning walk, wondering if every ring of the church bell is his voice. They all like to know, was he aware that he was half-god? They ask us this as if he did not cling to the cocoon of his divinity. They ask us this as if he did not convince us of his sanctity at every sunrise sermon. He collected rusty nails beneath his bed. He said it would make things easier for everyone if they didn’t have to make two trips: one for the hanging, one for the fixture. He had a dark laugh. He said we were insipid. He said we were all too vain. He said we should stop being so cold. We were to refer to him as an artist, a son, a resurrection. This was long before he made his crown of thorns. This was long before we helped him put it on. You should believe me when I tell you I thought he’d save me. I stood on sidewalks and put his name in the pockets of passersby. I got on destinationless trains and saved every seat for him. I went to grocery stores and put his picture on milk cartons. You should believe me when I tell you I was desperate. This is the end of the world we’re talking about. They all like to know, do you think he is coming back? They ask us this as if he did not hand us cross after cross. When I asked to see his palms, I looked down at the holes
Meghan Miraglia (she/her) is a poet living an hour outside of Boston, MA. She has been writing free-verse poetry for seven years and has recently begun a love affair with prose poems. In addition to The Broadkill Review, her work appears or is set to appear, in Words & Whispers and Borrowed Solace. Having just represented Salem State University at BC’s 2022 Intercollegiate Undergraduate Poetry Festival, Meghan was recently named as the poetry editor of Soundings East.
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