The Truth about Miracles


Everyone always says, don’t worry, it won’t hurt.

Don’t believe them.

Instead be careful. Practice daily.

Try the easy miracles first.

Try walking on coals. Or better yet, running on them. Run as fast as you can. Do not look back.

Or try levitating. Each time you lift off, a part of you becomes atoms of light, swirling upwards. Another you sinks down, as if to balance the rise, to resist it, tearing you apart bit by bit.

Try walking through walls instead. Feel the walls move through you, again and again,
especially the stone ones. Each stone becomes you, and you it.

Or die and come back to life once or twice. Saints love this. St.Teresa said death is better than life. Of course she’s right.

You could just drift off in a blizzard in Rochester or Oswego, New York. But you’re no Inuit or saint. And this is no fairy tale, no happily-ever-after with a warm glow racing all the way down to your fingertips in the end . . .

Whether you enter the darkness or light, the fire or the snow, each element becomes you. But who do you turn into? And what?

If you think this isn’t about love, think again.

That’s why I won’t ever see you. I’m afraid of what will happen if you touch me again. I’m afraid you never will.

Nin Andrews is the editor of a book of translations of the French poet Henri Michaux entitled Someone Wants to Steal My Name from Cleveland State University Press. She is also the author of several books including The Book of Orgasms, Why They Grow Wings and Midlife Crisis with Dick and Jane. Her book, Sleeping with Houdini, was published by BOA Editions in 2007. She currently lives in Poland, Ohio. This piece has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize.