YOUR JEWISH NAME is more lovely
Than the names of any of my gods
by m t swanberg

Between her legs
I was a god
In complete control
of her breath

I was the god of
how she moved in time with me

of the way we tried to work as one
even though we both knew
that wasn’t the truth
there was a distance between us

yet
I still pushed into her
To leave myself
And she took me in
like a refugee Of some distant war
In some small European country

And she taught me her language
so I filled books with her dialect
I practiced speech in the dark
I read whatever she put in front of me

And I came to pray at her altar
On my knees in plush carpet
Kissing the rings on her fingers
Burying my face in her lap

And we were wed
In a small ceremony under her sheets
she asked me if I took her
And of course I said yes