522: And For Those of You...
--who always wondered about my obssession with the Virgin Mary or why I wear that rosary around my neck, here's my attempt at explanation.
***
Rosary
Un, deux, trois, quatre . . . I count each
bead along the chain of the rosary, until
I reach its engraved apex, which hangs
above the middle of my chest, bringing
the Virgin's downcast face up to my lips.
This is why I keep this rosary around my
neck: for even though I know this is not
where my heart is, I still feel as if this is
the center of me and that somehow by
positioning her there, she is protecting
this cavity housing my soul.
Cinque, sei, sette, otto, nove . . . I murmur
each rich consonant and open vowel, as
if for her ears alone--ashamedly, I don't
know more than "ave maria, gratia plena,"
and instead I must offer this devotion of
numbers, in every language I know.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen . . . unlucky,
the cross and son fell off, seemingly of
their own volition--he wants no part of
this deal his mother and I have struck,
enveloped in a mother's warmth, divorced
of any need for father or son (men).
Perhaps it is the worst kind of blasphemy,
my love and my faith in her, but I will
continue to pinch and roll these dark
tears of hers, bow my head and lift my
eyes, whispering these numbers as my
hands jut from her face to my forehead,
from shoulder to shoulder, made straight
by her unconditional forgiveness and
unwavering love, and pray only to her.
*