& i feign piety before the ultraviolet apocalypse

an erasure poem

Photo: Jonathan Acierto via Flickr

2015, from Jennifer Niven’s All the Bright Places

i pass another marble jesus
& then i step into a room that glows.

gabriel and jesus are raising the dead,
hands reach upward, across
the ceiling like stars.

ask the angels
to bring loved ones back;
give them a happy eternity.

in the outstretched palm of jesus,
i see it — the one thing
& so i pick it up, the offering
i’ve brought — a butterfly ring.

i stay awhile longer and then go
blinking into daylight. two sets
of stairs, side by side, and a sign:

DO NOT WALK ON THE HOLY STAIRS
ASCEND ON YOUR KNEES

i count 28 steps.
i drop to my knees and go up.