Paradox Flip over and float, she said after I confessed two-thirds into Deuteronomy that I wasn’t sure about God and that my mind was tortured. She was a Baptist in a Methodist house, I was a doubter in a room full of faith and there in front of God and five witnesses with their Bibles open to the part where it says you may eat any animal that has a split hoof divided in two and that chews the cud, a miracle began. I closed my eyes. I flipped over and floated. But after a few months of God holding my bobbing soul up till belief returned, he let go, gently pushing me to the shore where I’m as certain today there is no god as I am that nothing less set me free.
Tina Williams lives in Austin, TX. Her poems have appeared in Borderlands: Texas Poetry Review, the New Verse News and Concho River Review.
