Our nights of assessing God,
With our heads conjoined to the windowpanes,
Our thoughts permeating throughout the glass.
Two lukewarm coffees embellished the windowsill,
The synthesis of our cognition and entwined fingers,
The soft touch of shoulders leaning upon each other,
Brought forth beatific vision, we saw God;
His blemished flesh, the formation of his bones.

It began,
His vertebral column, intangible lights, the Aurora Borealis.
His archaic vertebrae, stained in ethereal fluorescence;
The curvature, swirling, as the Deity writhes in euphoria,
A childish game,
Our God, content in the night.

His hands, formed from the dust of Bethlehem,
Grains of sand corralling to form flesh upon the detritus of Rome.
His Holy land, The Vatican; Structures of marble and stone,
Merely his cupped hands,
As his disciples' feet caress his palms.

His organs; The planets in orbit;
His heart, our sun.
The rays of light that adorn our skin,
Merely the palpitations of a hidden pulsating heart.
his divinity,  subject of uncertainty in the petulant eyes of his children
walking in Terra Incognita.

His skin, Lo, to the stars;
Our hands yearned to touch the celestial freckles,
outstretched to feel the fibres of God;
And like our limbs, so did God outstretch,
his flesh, but space; suffusing within the translucent contours of the cosmos.

To be told we were made in the image of God, is to be deceived;
Our childish conjecturing, truly a theorem to be displaced,
Our augmented minds, illuminated;
An aureole behind our heads,
We became biblical as we touched lips by the mantelpiece.

blur of rock, snow, trees
I drift in and out of reality
dream of swimming alone
at night, the sweet danger
your hand on my leg

this highway becomes
endless motion
reach into the grey night
beg a cigarette
off the gypsy woman
desperate
addictions will destroy me
one day, nothing left to do
but wait for the next stop
watch your breath form halos
of precious air on the window
misty and cool                
hey, beautiful stranger
could I rescue you
from sleep, your hand
on my leg feels like nothing
else but it won't last

the driver speaks to me
of wandering souls
in a few hours he promises
we'll be somewhere

remember the time
we, together, cried
it was winter
as i recall
i remember the chill
still feel the cold
it remains
along with the frigid tears
frozen in time
our hands
numb
if only the pain could mimic
the snow came down
like the falling sound
of our footsteps
on the icy ground
running
together
we shared one pair of gloves
we shared
a pair of souls