When god is but a creation of us
and we fail to see the utility
of faith and love,
I shall be Your hold on the world.
I shall clasp at the ropes
which break and bind the cracks
of the earth
to the marks of Your Skin.
I shall take the out of place
which You have followed so wearily
and create a home
in each of the seventy-seven crevices of hell
For You.
I will love every inch of you
that you carry to the labyrinth.
I will hold sacred
the uncovered words
in the bible of Your Mouth.

In betrayed prayer and
unconditional sermon
I become but a story
of a damaged woman
and her awe stricken
who thought the world of her
and nothing of god
in the same breath.