The bell rang a few times,
I couldn’t keep track of how many times.
I fell into place;
one, two, three, step.
Hands fell together like a massive submarine
colliding into something extreme.
Remember how tragedies make for great love stories?
I guess that’s why I loved you.
Incense presented the cross;
smoke, mirrors, Ghost.
And my fingertips pressed together,
like I once pressed into you.
I looked up at the man who wore a robe and said old poetry,
and I wondered how men could lie and think we believed them.
It doesn’t matter if it’s God or you;
I don’t feel loved.
The submarine’s drowning; quick! grab the floats.
The incense is contracting my throat.
Coughing out smoke. Coughing out water.
“Let Him with no sin cast the first stone.”
Well, I’m tired of saying sorry.
I’ll choose to drown over saying lies.
No breath, no life, yet I’m free from You.
At last my hands are untied, no holes in my palms.
And I wonder if love is worse than inferno.
I wonder what pain to feel.
I wonder what I’m made of,
and I wonder what is real.
Love is a word from breath.
Smoke is air.
No matter if in water or in love; I’m all-consumed.
No matter where I am, I choose to be with You.