Tarot

We sat cross-legged behind Mary Magdalene's

In a bamboo filled lit by a candle flame

Wax fell into the dirt as she read my tarot

She could see through me like a rotten oak barrel

When I said, it's time I go

She said, yes you best

She slipped a little note in the pocket on my chest

Which I read on my way home

In the morning before work, my spine still tingled

Her words in my head like the rain on the shingles