Divided

You will always be divided he said
simply
like ash being flicked
off one of a million
cigarettes
casually
bestowing upon me
as though it were an honour
the World’s Most Terrible Curse
and I all the while
an ant in a water puddle
trying to fathom God’s finger
relentlessly pointing
to the formula
for my salvation
trying to comprehend
with miniscule brain
that life does not
measure up or down
to expectations
that nothing is truly owned
that the very ant-blood coursing
through my veins
is but mine on short term loan
then God’s voice
booming like a B rate movie:
The choice is simple:
Love or Notlove
and I
viewing God’s finger
like some gigantic carrot
I want to eat but don't know how
hear myself respond
in helium voice
Deal! But one condition:
I WILL NOT be divided–
that much I refuse!
That is going too far, God!
a tiny ingratiating joke
for who am I
to start negotiations
when up above
immense
live thunderbolts
unfurl?