Devotion
By Ocean Vuong
Instead, the year begins
with my knees
scraping hardwood,
another man leaving
into my throat. Fresh snow
crackling on the window,
each flake a letter
from an alphabet
I’ve shut out for good.
Because the difference
between prayer & mercy
is how you move
the tongue. I press mine
to the navel’s familiar
whorl, molasses threads
descending toward
devotion. & there’s nothing
more holy than holding
a man’s heartbeat between
your teeth, sharpened
with too much
air. This mouth the last
entry into January, silenced
with fresh snow crackling
on the window.
& so what––if my feathers
are burning. I
never asked for flight.
Only to feel
this fully, this
entire, the way snow
touches bare skin––& is,
suddenly, snow
no longer.
Copyright Credit: Ocean Vuong, "Devotion" from Night Sky with Exit Wounds. Copyright © 2016 by Ocean Vuong. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.