As If Nothing Matters

When I looked at the body 
I thought only in clichés, 
those that I had yet to experience 
for thirty years. 

But the second part of 
her empty shell did not 
seem to be anywhere. 
I stared at plastic. 
Carbon. 
An absence of blood. 

And what I do know 
is that racists believe in God 
and that the homeless bless in God 
and that children pray to God. 

But I have prayed only 
in the shower, 
wrestling in my cleanliness. 

And what I know 
is that I don’t think about sin, 
but I do think about knowledge 
and understanding things. 

So, when I think about God 
I dread the day that I must find out 
if my understanding 
or my sins 
mattered.