Memory of Baptism

[Larry]

after she gave birth,
my mother took me to be born.

to a hospital of gospels and frankincense instead
Of magazines and cherry disinfectants.
Where bent statuettes crowded solemn walls
and crimson candles awaited flames-
their twisted, black wicks begging to be burned.

The doctor wore traditional white,
and in the April light that leaked through
The sapphire stained glass he looked like I’d imagine
a ghost would; Translucent in the purifying sun,
Floating beside a baptismal fountain.

My parents spoke only "Lawrence” to him,
and he smiled back above his folded palms
before cupping them in water, and blessing my head
Drawing a cross for my mind to carry
As it grew with this body, like an invisible limb.

It might’ve been a year since then,
but I had just left the womb-
once again.

---

No wait!

After she gave birth,
my mother took me to be born:

to a hospital of gospels and frankincense
where bent statuettes crowded solemn walls
and crimson candles awaited flames-
their twisted, black wicks begging to be burned.

The doctor wore traditional white,
and in the April light that leaked through
the sapphire stained glass he looked like I imagine
a ghost would; translucent in the purifying sun,
floating beside a baptismal fountain.

My parents spoke only "Lawrence” to him,
and he smiled back above his folded palms
before cupping them in water, and blessing my head.
He etched a cross for my mind to carry
How it grew with the child, like an invisible limb.

Uhh....crap I need an ending?