Descending Theology: The Resurrection // Mary Karr

Descending Theology: The Resurrection

by Mary Karr


From the far star points of his pinned extremities,

cold inched back in – black ice and blood ink –

till the hung flesh was empty. Lonely in that void

even for pain, he missed his splintering feet,

the human stare buried in his face.

He ached for two hands made of meat

he could reach to the end of.

In the corpse’s core, the stone fist of his heart


began to bang on the stiff chest’s door,

and breath spilled back into that battered shape. Now

it’s your limbs he longs to flow into –

from the sunflower center of your chest

outward – as warm water

shatters at birth, rivering every way.