Carry me home
In July 2010, I pulled out a bright orange Bible carrier-bag, thinking:
Tomorrow the domestic worker comes.
I will give it to her along with some worn-out socks and a stained shirt.
I’m not the biggest Samaritan
But I kind of try.
As the Treasurer of her church,
She may well find a fitting owner
For this remnant from my Charismatic days.
There are still some bunched up tissues in the internal pocket.
I used to keep them with me since my first days at Youth meetings.
It got annoying to burst into holy tears without some tissues nearby.
Maybe if I unfurl these tissues now I will release the ghost of something holy.
Maybe there will just be my old fossilized snot.
Like my flesh.