Jesus looks so ruby red, dead
and your purring
wracks some embryo to
life, gave it a foreign ring –
hand-tested gold or
diamond surfaced from oceans:
or not, no.
No, it is just a mirror
and you are what makes it
look so beautiful, breathing
sea-salt and gasoline –
one perfect drop found a well
and down, down, down
it fell. I caught ants, I smashed
in their hissing heads.
Yes, yes, so red.
God would be proud of the
mystery you and I have kept.
We drag him along like a light,
lantern bleaching flame,
but as soon as the sun hits,
he, too, drops into a haze –
and lands cross-legged, think?
There is a jeweler up there
that makes his ankles shine,
they are bolder than the moon
cousin of his best side,
as you are mine. Mine,
some sort of wordly delight –
bravery, diamond, and be alive.
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
Jesus looks so ruby red, dead
and your purring
wracks some embryo to
life, gave it a foreign ring –
hand-tested gold or
diamond surfaced from oceans:
or not, no.
No, it is just a mirror
and you are what makes it
look so beautiful, breathing
sea-salt and gasoline –
one perfect drop found a well
and down, down, down
it fell. I caught ants, I smashed
in their hissing heads.
Yes, yes, so red.
God would be proud of the
mystery you and I have kept.
We drag him along like a light,
lantern bleaching flame,
but as soon as the sun hits,
he, too, drops into a haze –
and lands cross-legged, think?
There is a jeweler up there
that makes his ankles shine,
they are bolder than the moon
cousin of his best side,
as you are mine. Mine,
some sort of wordly delight –
bravery, diamond, and be alive.
