Within the Tomb

by Kaylene Graham

on Caravaggio’s Entombment of Christ

The body is no longer bleeding; it curves, graceful,
like a heavy curtain, falling. The right hand of God
grazes the stone table. Nicodemus clasps the corpse—
feels with his feet along the edge. The beloved one
gazes upon the breathless breast where he reclined
the night before; his fingers cover the rip at his Lord’s
ribs. The holy Mother reaches toward the lips which
latched upon her breast. Magdalene buries grief
into her fist. Mary of Cleopas alone lifts her hands,
her face — white with an alien light within this tomb
where God will lie, anointed with the salt of weeping.