SLEIGHT

As though a voice
      said to me not
in words: I ask the supreme
      gesture. Take me
as I am. And the sky
was round as though everything
was inside.
                  But my mind,
I said, holding it
            in my unseen
hands: the pain of it
            is what keeps
me human. What you ask
      is an assemblage
that shall pass unscathed
            through the bonfire
of its knowledge.
                  You do yourself
      harm, coming to us
with your sleeves rolled up
      as though not responsible
for deception. We have seen
you lay life like a cloth
            over the bones
at our parties and wave
      your cold wand and expect
us to smile, when you took it away
      again and there was nothing.