“In Faith” by Alessandra Davy-Falconi

They climbed the steps,
to kiss the pale pelvis of St. Jerome
(hearts melted the lip-touching glass)
or to touch a toe of blessed St. Anthony
a finger (chipped) tip of St. Claire, the tooth-crumb
again, of Anthony
another of his knee cap, they have in the back.

tips of ribs and lengths of legs,
rest on red (deep velvet) behind glass,
proof of saintly cells, from the bone
the enamel
the keratin
through which
runs God

imagine a wall of brassy halos
imagine two walls, three, a charnel chapel
piled to heaven with skeletal clippings

between, the statues of resting, sleeping, thinking
youths
dressed in blue and purple and gold
and—look closely—but round their necks
a thin red line, indented
or a dish of eyes, a lick of flame in hand

on hot days the tank of blessed water
in the blood dried dark
looks good enough to drink
but a bottle costs money
and what Jesus should do (does) in an intestine
God should not

welcome to
(we hope) miracles of death
thank god for the ends of saints
that their fingers and spines be left
—a bit of skull, we beg!—we plead—
to touch
(with cloth)
(with fingers)
(with candles)
(with paper)

to answer