Take me home

If I could meet God
I would meet her in New York
in a nightclub
in the middle of a dance floor
I would spin her around
under the strobes
her face would flash red
and mine would flash blue
I would take hold of her arm
pull her aside
cup my hands to her ear
and whisper
‘take me home’

If I could meet God
I would meet her in Moscow
we would dress up like Russian dolls
take a horse and carriage
across cobbled streets
into an old growth forest
full of giant oaks
we would kneel in the soil
create a mountain of leaves
light a match
and dance around the flames
I would inhale the smoke
breathe it into my chest
attach a string to my foot
and holding my breath
I would float
up to the stars
with her holding the string

If I could meet God
I would write her a note
on a piece of birch bark
I would scrawl inside the veins
and sign it with my name
then I would bury it
deep inside the earth
and a year to the day
I would return
dig up the note
shake off the dirt
siphon the ink off the bark with my tongue
spit out the words
into globules of light
to form trails in the earth
leading out of the woods
we would take off our shoes
step on the sand
and holding her hand
I would ask her
to follow me home


Andrea Barnard (Western Australia)