May 9, 2013
I kissed the corner of a prayer book
before I ever kissed a boy.
Swinging limply on worn rubber
soles captured brusquely in your
cinnamon eyes (they sparked in holy
water, those frayed wires),
I discovered the hollowness of bones
and the fragility of theism.
I composed soliloquys to the joy
of giving up while you somehow/where/day
learned the taste of strawberry
in lamplight. This is where we
two separately discovered we were not,
as I once thought, pebbles stacked
and stable, their angle of repose
unreached as of yet, still waiting to crumble
under the weight of affirmation. Hear,
O Israel, the lord is our God, and
God is dead. I am cobblestone, and
you are a hooved lullaby (we are the grass
in the cracks). We are not dead yet.

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LexusMarie said...
May 18, 2013 at 9:00 pm
Hey there! I tend to do research on religions from time to time just because I find it very interesting. And I actually just looked up to see the difference in our religions after reading your poem. I am Christian. But, anyways, again I am so impressed with your work. I really enjoy the title.. I too wrote a love poem with the title being of a different language. Mine was the phrase 'I Love You' in German. I find it very unique when writer's do that. I think it draws the reader ... (more »)
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