[THE EVENING BEFORE ISAAC REALIZES ABRAHAM IS A SCARED SON, TOO]
The sky is quiet as
a father and son set the table.
The lamb rests his head on a bed of satin grass
and stares at the constellations in wonder.
This is the last night that
Fathers shall receive total faith
for merely proving their existence,
though they do not know it yet;
No, tonight,
a son hands his father the knife
to cut the first slice of their daily bread.
It is good.
It is enough.
[Tomorrow, Abraham will hold his son's hand as they return home, the night blurry with tears of relief. A star, white with purity, will gallop across the pastures of space. Isaac will look at his father, and feel the blade at his throat.]
eve's note: I used to see myself in Isaac, and now, I see him in all the men I've ever loved. So it goes. As always, love you.
YOU ARE READING
HEAVENLY CORRUPTION
PoesiaThe ramblings of a woman who spent too much time in confession and too little time trying to figure out what exactly she was apologizing for.
