The Lord Works in Mysterious Ways

The trick only works
If you put a cloth over the glass.
So you dress me accordingly,
Making sure my legs never show.

But now I see the strings,
The tapered edges of your cards,
The skirt covers all you ever want
Concealed weapons.

Your god’s mysterious ways sure do fit
Neatly into your act,
Nested in your hat,
Waiting to be pulled out.

The flowers pulled from under my skirt
You placed there only to fool
Your audience into thinking that I shed beauty
When they were taken from me.

A magician never reveals his tricks
Until he’s faced with her
Who’s read the scriptures
And knows it’s not a good book.

Claire Rosemary is a survivor of purity culture and Christian fundamentalism. Her art frequently explores her religious upbringing and how it intersects with her asexuality, gender, and disability. She is currently a senior at DePaul University studying animation and media. Her writing has previously been published in Women at Warp and The Helix. She is currently working on a screenplay for a feature film. She lives on the north side of Chicago where she plays chess on Sunday mornings.