i.I’m keeping a picture of him between the pages of my bible, not in the way of an exorcism. He, dark and fast like a riptide, leading me with a trail of cigarettes & half-said promises. I listen for him like he is the silence after rain. A song of Solomon. I sing my lips clean of fact. I’m not looking for purity anymore. My grail is found – a romance that feels like a holiness that asks you to fall asleep next to it. ii.If you stand at an ending and then turn around, you are looking at a backwards reflection of the beginning you came from. I want that, to know where we started. Even at this resolve, I do not know where I am. All I remember is a kiss that crushed my teeth and dissolved me into lavender. iii.I put him in my bible because that's the best place to bury a person. The ceiling falls through my hands, there is only one place my mother won't look for answers because surely there can't be anything bad in there. Is there a better hiding place than the depths of a black book? iv.The sky is a silken crumpled mess of beauty. I meet a new boy & he falls into me because all I am now is void. I try to sing him. He is not lavender. He smells like coffee & what good is coffee when all you want is to fall asleep. My songs still sound like Solomon. I push the new boy out with the deluge. I set him free of my blue. v.Yesterday, I burned my bible & I didn't take his picture out. Love does not know holiness. The window shattered inward, letting in a rageful wind that said I was wasting the time that I exist outside of. What use is there in setting fire to the lyrics when you have the sacred words frozen in your memory? The smoke smelled too strongly of lavender for anyone to sleep. The ceiling was on the floor & nothing here was blessed. ✱✱✱
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