They really pray to You, they really love You, shocked to learn what i took for flowers and adornment is simple door-greeting etiquette to real Heaven-citizens and -chasers, it's so similar to forgetting the words of a national anthem or the colors in a flag that has been etched into the lids of both your eyes, and Never Remembering, only recalling that the devotion has been lost. realizing my prayers are about as fancy as gum stuck under a cathedral pew, worth nothing at all, but it's better in a wrapper, which makes you wonder, doesn't it, makes you wonder, about the wrapper and the Lord's Prayer versus 'o help me God' in open-mouthed, quiet, pious timbre, o help me God until my throat fills with ants
and the blessing will need to account for two wounds instead of one, Blaise and the saints of everything else, for everything and anyone else
In a world where I am real friends with God I don't see much of any one else
I'm afraid to depart from His sight
Afraid the sun is a myth He created to ease me into my new life. Your egg yolk sister in the sky
and no diamonds.
A reminder of the family I came from.
I have hundreds of photographs of my
human friends cursing, cameria right close to their mouths, tongues and eyebrows contorting, in case I can never fix my ears to hear them again, swap senses, i remember what motherfucker looks like
Now that I can no longer taste it, attach my teeth to the sound
Forfeit my skin as covering and use it as a notebook, trapping all my favorite feelings under my palms and on my cheeks, writing down kisses, baby's hair, fresh bread, lotion, blankets, books, girls
All these things my forget-me-nots
All these things I shear off like wool
So they let me in the kingdom
—
the God-Gay poem to end all my God v. Gay poems
