I have written about the carols of angels,
and a paradise in the clouds.
but the truth is, I believe in no God.

The closest thing I've ever felt to power
was the blood coursing through
your veins, laced with a new feeling.

hazy, thick, a heavy drug.
I did not find salvation in prayer,
but in the way the grass held me still.

wrapping itself around me,
dragging me toward the earth,
hungry for the taste of my bones.

I do not think there is a place above
that can make me feel as safe as I do
when you hover so close to me.

my eyes see nothing but the stars
and I want only to feel the warmth
that lacks to reach me from such length.

God sees all his people as children,
but we have strayed too far from innocence.
we have fallen too deep into dreams.
we have learned too much to believe.