The beast of joy hollered our names up to God,
but Iâm afraid that his voice might get lost
in the noise and wander off.
The beast of joy held your hands up to the sun,
gave you strength when you thought that you had none,
and sewed you up when you came undone.
The beast of joy howled vowels up to the moon,
and consonants were constantly being consumed
by our ears in living rooms.
In the garden, I love what you create.
But Iâm afraid Iâll become the things I hate.
Weâll plant our feet and grow new legs.
And for the first time Iâm afraid that Iâm not sure
where my feet will land when I come down or what muscles are for.
I got half a mind to follow you down towards
the belly of the beast of joy, which keeps my hand in yours.
Everyone before you hollowed out my insides and wasted my love.
I have you now.
Everyone wasted my love.