Meg Kim

far from town following the Union Pacific 

I traced steel lines to boarded shadows and waded in 

I thought god’s voice was like this

a human-carved cavern lined with arsenic

the waist-high water a flurry of imperceptible messages 

I almost stayed to hear the way they ended

faith as complete as a chill 

an exercise in mining the worst possibilities from the ridges

of the brain absent of stalagmitic reach

the cave a fangless arc of jaw

where nothing grew groundward 

so frigid for minutes I had no legs

but stillness so thorough it resembled death

though light crept its tepid fingers forward