God says, Sit over there, there
where it’s hot. Now steep.
God says, wait there for me.
I wait. I do not understand
what any of the signs
around me mean.
God calls my number.
I rise. She lays me naked
on a table. I close my eyes.
She scrubs me. And scrubs.
Without mercy, she scrubs.
It is a long time before
I understand that the small
gray rolls beside me are
my own layers coming off.
Not one inch of me
is forgotten. She adds salt
and she scrubs. She adds soap,
and she scrubs. She lathers me
then rinses me. She turns me. She hums.
There is no chit chat. No
q & a. No whys. She covers me
in warm towels and pulls me
against myself. She climbs
on the table and straddles me. She makes
of my body a drum and beats
loud slaps on my head,
in both armpits, on my right
then left thigh. God coves me
in oil, then rubs me till I shine.
I am just another body. She
turns me into silk. She grinds
her elbow between my ribs. She
bathes me in warm milk.
I do not mourn the layers gone.
I do not ask God to explain.
There is more to come off,
she runs her hands through my hair,
but only so much at a time.