I.
the glory had left. I searched
desperate for your open hands,
broken feet trampling
dry words, empty kisses.
desolation and guilt
crumpled dark under my eye-lids;
I found no relief in
glistening baubles.
raw fingers dug deep into
discordant lies, I saw
a cacophony of frantic
red. god with us?
cold empty pushed blue
inwards, choked breathing, hit
shivers solid up my soul—
this is what December tasted of.
II.
until you breathed back
warmth, solid that winter
night with my soul tucked
careful and quiet into my mouth.
I felt you: your god becoming
flesh; your presence awakened
my hardness, softened the
drought. I beheld:
incarnate anew. it was too
much, I could not look, yet
my wondering eyes felt
your god revealed.
I wept, for redemption
lay velvet upon my neck,
gold halos creased my forehead:
“lo, I am with you always.”
whiskey promises to be drunk
on, thirst quenched as
seeking hands clutch home--
god made flesh.
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