tiferet shebtiferet
It’s balance within balance, not a balancing act, God says. What if the plates fall? I ask.
It’s okay, God says, it’s just plates. But some plates are people, I say. God sighs big.
You’re not a plate, God says. No people are plates. If you’ve made any people into plates,
unplate them. How do I unplate them without them falling? I say. Tell them that you’re sorry,
God says, for making them into plates. Then figure out what plates you hold together. But what,
I say, if I drop those plates? Oh, child, still grieving one, God says, go to bed.
In a second, I say. I wanna go check on the plants first, the ones from earlier,
remember, on the porch? See whether the water’s done them any good. All right, God says, smiling.
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