make me your religion, so that i have one to turn to when holiness turns on me
from now on i'll only bathe in roses and the pity of angels
for maybe the water will break my fall from heaven
after i lose my virginity
when i look into the mirror i look a shade grayer, is it regret, or is it the loss of purity?
cast from the highest mountain on earth by he who saved me
i mistook the serpent for his arm wrapping around my waist,
but i plead,
after it was done his arm started to turn green by the minute
i was once an unattainable piece of art, a timeless mosaic,
but to be lost to a moment
YOU ARE READING
the petals on a rose
Poetryand then there will still be vultures after that'll continue to take what they can get from the residue of your pure soul [a collection of poetry & prose]
