God doesn't hate
Satan doesn't abate
The hate that's in the "Christians" eyes
Is nothing more than sordid lies
And misconstruing Fathers words
It's been a while of killing birds
With stones
Amounting less and less
Greed, lust and selfishness
God doesn't hate
Satan doesn't abate
The signs they ****** in the air
Are lies, lies everywhere
Because God doesn't hate
And Satan doesn't abate
The gospel that they are preaching
Away the truth it's leeching
Because GOD DOESN'T HATE
And Satan doesn't abate

I want hands and lips
I want a dark room, I want tips
of your fingers
and the tip
of something else.
I want
Je veux
I want eyes
Your eyes
that burn holes through my corneas and my cerebellum all the way through the back of my skull.
I want to wrinkle your sheets and ruffle your hair and bite your pillow
and your neck
and leave scratches on your back.
That’s what I want right now.

As the night consumed the last rays of dusk
I prepared myself for the hours of loss
The air so thick and unsettling
Another night spent pondering
Each moment less bearble than the last
I must have been a fool to fall into this

I met a girl named Abigail
Who I spent with a couple of nights
She wore horse hair for her raincoat
And paper cuts for eyes
She was born in a manger
Beneath the donkey's bray
Then ran off with the sandman
That the inn had turned away

I met her in Nazareth
Weeping like a warring dove
Her sighs were angels dying
Her tears were Noah's flood
I never called her beautiful
I never gave her my name
For in the moment my lips had parted
My tongue had caught aflame

I became her Christmas ornament
Made of paper mache
But it'd been a cold Christmas
And she kept the cold at bay
She read the Bible to me
As I turned my blood into wine
Our idle hands locked in lust
Just sinners in our prime

She sewed me a crow
Her thumbs like Mistress Miller
But when the crow pulled out its filling
She became as tortured as a killer
The last thing about her I remember
Before that bird plucked out my sight
Was it before me with broken wings
And a crucifix cut in the dying light

When I took to my deathbed
She gave me a hymn from her harp
Her fingers moved like Lazarus
And her stories broke my heart
The notes were my gallows
The chords like a firing squad
But she waited with a smile
To deliver me to God

At first light I made a gift of coffee
it’s aroma stirred just one long leg
I lifted her naked into the wet warmth
to bathe awake and wash long hair
carrying her towelled wrapped form
bowed lips now sip then fight me
as I dress her in jeans, socks and top
beauty made calm and simple

Drunk sad at her leaving party
keeping her warm I had let Lust sleep
now still lolling in grief for dark peace
my selfish need drags her ****** up
into light trapped by the green valley
walking on along its grass path
the canoed river spits past a-whirl
rediscovering the torn through pocket
her hand delves questioning
to withdraw unhurried, stroked
by a flicking fishing rod

Recovered now leading me
over the bridge above the Boat
then on up the steep valley side
we arrive at the Ostrich for beer
then to dine on fish in the open
feeding and sharing her lips
we consider audaciously
the little garden’s potential
she hums prayer murmurings
pleased by the moment

On into the nearby woods
high above the Kings trail
to slowly descend hedged paths
we return to the river valley
slipping between shop doors
lifting a book we idle along
a new couple enjoying life
taking tea under waterfalls
back  besides the Boat where
her beauty is now Queen

She leads me smiling by the hand
along both banks in the setting sun
till we near the Abbey's stone ribs
skipping around it's green shadows
a bank helps us to vault within

Fenced alone
ignoring distant figures
jeans and top colour
the darkening lawns
beckoning me closer
Lust now sits astride  
the grass and stone
an open ****** grin

A week only, no more
I am left alone in her bed
on this smaller island
she ashore in another
busy - separated by a day
we talk lovers spells
and write away our hopes

Three months and two days
a call ‘******* we were....
pregnant” her sacrifice ours
on a stainless alter of
that new god Career**


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