28 Jun


i follow my bliss. i follow it
and its slow-burning rapture
through some densely wooded paths;
i find it in corners with my back
flat against mother earth.
i cough out soil
and my throat is clogged
with dirt i’ve left unchecked,
but i follow my bliss,
chase it down side streets,
alleyways and bridges.

keep all those fears
and the dust from forgotten pockets
settled on the ground.
keep them at sword’s point.
honey trap, sharp metal
freeze the skin of my stomach,
burn me on my thighs.

eyes up chin down i pray,
feeling the touch of God on my
delusive mouth, my empty skin.
i’ll talk to any god that’ll listen
but i’d rather find that touch
from the crystal heaven of my childhood
than stand knee-deep in sacrifice.

i hide under pregnant clouds,
lift my face to razor rain that
cuts my cheeks clean through.

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