sometimes people love to act being seraphim
they imagine having six wings
each pair serving a purpose;
two to cover their face
because the only eyes they want to see with
are the Lord's
two to cover their bodies
for they wouldn't want to show them for
everyone to see
and the remaining two they use to fly with,
sprinkling white feathers on the earth
and wondering
what have you people become?
and whereas i only want to see with my own eyes
and embrace my body's merciful beauty
and fly with my own thoughts,
i can't seem to wonder the same
what the fuck have we become?
YOU ARE READING
𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐘
Poetryi look at the white bells hanging off green shanks - they are perfumed with death.
