Your soul's movement
is everything..
my sin; when made manifest,
a particulate--
(when breathed in,
there is a certain freedom within it)
Within view of the altar stone
all hidden knives, become fully known
(and, alas, my love--
there's no ram in the thicket)
Beautiful, within the endeavor
though still vastly distant--
(what a fool I make of myself
trying to make this thing, rhyme
by having the audacity
to use the word, Covenant.)
Maybe, I--
your long-lost, supplicant
has been nothing more
than a deeply-embedded, replicant.
(or something)..
i am loved, but i need help learning how to even breathe in this world..
oh, lord..
oh my lord
https://youtu.be/ginVZEah8_4