Yesterday,
My mother told me bedtime stories
From a book called religion.
She said,

“We chase after glory with a hunger
We’ve only heard of
In the newspapers.
We are the pollution in the streets.
Status stretches our seams from one another,
But our competitive pursuit of love
Holds us together.

But tomorrow,
If we cleanse ourselves,
We’ll be free of this greedy freedom.
We will not be hungry people.
Those in the newspapers
Will be fed the warm honey of God
And love won’t be sought,
It’ll be provided.”

My mother kissed me goodnight.
I prayed to God
To descend heaven onto Earth
If only for me.

Today,
He tells me bedtime stories
From a book called love.
He says,

“I’ve chased after you
With a hunger I’ve never felt
For another.
You are miosis and you divide me,
I am split into my heart and my polluted mind,
Combined with you.
You stitch me together
With the promise of your unwavering
Temporary time.

Tomorrow,
I’ll be free from your intoxicating spell
And will have forgotten who we dreamed of being.
Your love will linger in my mind
With the flavour of your honey lips
But my heart will no longer seek you.”

He kisses me goodnight,
And I pray to Him
To restore the spirit of the world,
Or perhaps only mine.