Monstrance of Sky
By Christopher Mark Rose
Aerbello — the shape one sees in the movement of wheat, blown by wind. The shape of wind, written in sheaves.
I left me, without really leaving. Well, not I myself, but Eva. She told me she was leaving me, as we made love in our bedroom. It was clear she didn’t mean immediately.
Cova — any place a crow could be. A crow-sized void, unoccupied by an actual crow.
She said we weren’t good for each other, we weren’t helping each other to grow. She said my God obsession had gotten to be too much. She said her presence in my life was redundant.
“Please don’t go,” I said. “If you go, my heart will be a cova.” I couldn’t understand, and it hurt me. It felt as though I had swallowed a razor blade, without realizing.
Monstrance — a vessel, in Catholic tradition, in which the consecrated Host is placed, to be exposed for the adoration of the faithful.
Without knowing why, I had started making a list of words that meant God, or related to worship, or words I thought could describe God. I found I was transcribing large portions of dictionaries, encyclopedias. I couldn’t explain it, I just felt compelled. I was probably obsessed. I wasn’t a believer but neither an unbeliever then.