Can you take a person
Inside your hands
And break him open,
Rib by rib
And know everything
By eyeballing
The bulging mass
Beneath his sternum?
Can you know the lust
Turned “love” but always
Cloaked and hiding,
Shadowlike, not
Something to be eaten
Without testing, first?
Can you say you lead
God’s people without
Even knowing God’s
People and how their evil
Leaves them pore by pore,
Ever searching your own?
Remove the blinders,
Your fear,
Your love of money,
Your diminishing god,
And keep eyes open
To Jehovah whose
Always thumbing
the organ
You try to hide
With your hands.
Ericka Clay 
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