Swimming in molten streams

You say your heart leapt when our paths first crossed
That my frame made you melt, shook you shoulders in spasms
You say sparks flew in our sights when they first locked
Like rough iron faces slamming together
At the start of a melding of souls

You say molten streams surged up your skin when we held hands
Roaring and smashing and battering and burning and sinking us
You say we swam and splashed in pleasant thoughts of each other
Together, woven up in skyward soars and seaward plunges
A glinting pearl of cosmic thirst for love quenched

You say I played up your craving heart like a game
Hugs for dice, kisses for cards, every moment a bet tied match
You claim I aimed for your delicate core
Where trust sits tightest, where hurt cuts deepest
And yes, you say I fractured your fragile soul with imaginings not lived out

You say you’ll be wrecked no more
So you sit beside loving hate and cursing smiles
You raise a cynic facade to mock a mirthless world
But you die a million times over on your insides
You shut sunlight out to mourn love lost in secret darkness

You’re coming round to truth now
For we did swim and splash and sink in love’s molten streams
But I became the life raft to keep your shaken frame afloat
The burden of wreck forced your pained flight from Light
But I’ve owned it as paddle to steer you back to me

Ikenna Nwachukwu Alexander
© 2019

Christ and Crumbs

A tearing loaf is losing its parts,
With the drawing apart of its whiteness within,
Halving its whole,
And leaving an abyss betwixt,
New incompletenesses,

A torn loaf sends shreds raining down,
Relics of fullness, signs of wreck,
Its white lands on earthen ground,
To defy dirt awhile,
Till it lies six feet deep,

This shared loaf once one,
Is multiplied by demise,
To reach the tongues that trust,
Enliven a billion bellies,
And reside in our flesh and blood,

In Christ’s flayed frame we find,
Skin shredded as crumbs,
Raining down from Heaven’s table,
His very self multiplied abroad,
To fill a billion hungry hearts,

Ikenna Nwachukwu

(c) 2018