The ripple effect of a rash decision.
Ignoring with a cold precision.
Glass cannot completely melt away.
Yet it never heats up the way they say.
A small crack in the upper lip.
An indentation, a simple dip.
If you don’t read the bible, Jesus will hate you.
But, Jesus, that is something I’ll never do.
The crack expands to a spider’s home.
A girl in a metal chair all alone.
Do you know what the gospel is, kid?
I don’t know if I do, but I wish that I did.
Splicing incision, multiple cracks.
Spiraling around in un-orderly stacks.
Mummy, I’m feeling ill.
Doesn’t matter, you are going still.
A piece falls to the floor with grace.
A trickle of water fills its place.
She throws her square hat into the air.
Whipping away the wafers and wine out of her hair.
The dam breaks away, the glass cascades in a sparkling haze.
Washing away the church daze.
Never. Again.