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They Told Me God Was Love
January 17, 2015
Touch my rounded thighs.
Trace your fingers down my ribs.
They are your rosary beads.
My name is your Hail Mary.
You shall be the same for me.
These stolen hours shall be our prayers.
Maybe God hates us, make me your savior.
Kiss me. Light candles in my honor.
I have been raised in church pews.
If i cannot worship God than you are my higher power.
© Noah G., Waban, MA
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