I touched His hand and
He hit me.
I ran my finger prints
over His callused thumb
over the cuts and bruises;
between the towers that were His fingers.
He gripped my tender fingertips with death
and pulled me under with his clutch.
He spilled sea foam into my ears,
filled my mouth with His salty tongue.
I saw love in shades of green and blue
heard His voice in strokes of black,
split my lip between His teeth and
washed my mouth with a copper jam.
I floated with Him for a time,
watched the waves collide over my head,
counted the grains of sand between strands of hair and
listened to reality through the heavy static of a radio.
I touched God's hand but
when I came to, they only wanted to know today's date.