Saint
Sasanov, Catherine
Saint Even the darkness I throw off can heal— My shadow slips over dirt but snags on the lepers crowding this street; those men clawing for a piece of that darkness to keep for...
...Already someone is selling my breath in a bottle, my blood and sweat in two cruets...
...Like God, everyone wants me everywhere at once...
...Though terrified of death, a city will creep out of its limits to swallow my grace...
...those men clawing for a piece of that darkness to keep for themselves...
...They want me to pray but every bone in my hands is already spoken for...
...Their left hands hold knives, they come mouthing novenas...
...My tongue will go to Siena, my arm bones to Venice...
...Artists aren't waiting for Rome to permit me a haloSmall and illumined, I'm cornered on a page, they surround me with Latin...
...Catherine Sasanov II...
...Someone's secretly bidding on the twenty-eight teeth they'll tear from my mouth...
...And the angels that perch at the foot of my deathbed wait their turn just to tear out my soul...
...every church in this town argues over my heart...
Vol. 128 • April 2001 • No. 8
