The Storm's Eye

The woman wears her skin 

like a bathrobe.

She stands in the middle 

of a golden field,

weeping fresh water. 

‘"With your pictures you apparently want to arouse in us a feeling of having to swallow rope or drink kerosene.”
– Braque to Picasso

Maybe it’s as simple as this: 
Maybe God’s hundredth name is His face. 

Oh Lord of Windows, 
Oh Window, 
Oh Mirror with Drawn Curtains,  

maybe if I keep tapping, 
keep drumming my fingers on your altar, 
you’ll wake up. Maybe