Consulting with Comets

I want to bite God’s lip,

(sinking my teeth into his lower one, slowly and then hard-- like Eve and the apple)

peer into His irises and ask why

we have to hurt? I’ll see His soul and speak

with His spirit and I’ll endure

until I know He does not

envy me.

Once,

yes just once

I climbed the constellations--

Andromeda to Virgo and back again

--and consulted with the comets.

I skipped over Saturn’s rings and sung

to the stars and the skies.

But no one answered, not even an echo.

All I grasped from the great beyond,

is that a girl that could gaze down

from the heavens and look upon Hell

is no girl at all, but instead--

a god.