I came crashing into the stained glass window
Of your baptist church on a balmy Tuesday evening.
Its wings batted and rattled against the
Rigid kaleidoscope wall while you prayed your sins
Away while no one was looking.
But my primitive eyes dilated through your bones
And you felt my gaze as the incessant stinging sensation on the small of your back,
The same space my hand once occupied hours before you made the decision to make me a bird,
To swish me away with the back of your hand.
My stare hardened until you squirmed like a newborn
Under the beating fluorescents of your worship,
Begging for reprieval,
But not even God's light could forgive you now.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 9:03 PM UTC
I came crashing into the stained glass window
Of your baptist church on a balmy Tuesday evening.
Its wings batted and rattled against the
Rigid kaleidoscope wall while you prayed your sins
Away while no one was looking.
But my primitive eyes dilated through your bones
And you felt my gaze as the incessant stinging sensation on the small of your back,
The same space my hand once occupied hours before you made the decision to make me a bird,
To swish me away with the back of your hand.
My stare hardened until you squirmed like a newborn
Under the beating fluorescents of your worship,
Begging for reprieval,
But not even God's light could forgive you now.
Request permission to use this poem