i talked to god on the edge of a cliff. at the canyon’s bottom was a beautiful river. “L’APPELDUVIDE!” i cried out to him. “this is everything you wish to be,” he responded. i saw god in the spaces between her teeth. he smiled mockingly, tantalizingly, daring me to pull the trigger. fulminating lips, vehement a deafening flash. he was brilliant and gone in a second. i felt god while laying hands on myself. vengeful, wrathful, omnipotent, everpresent. amour de soi, or amour-propre? the pursuit of perfectionism. succeed, or die trying. i smelled god on my mother’s Marlboro Lite fingers, after my tenth birthday when she held my face and kissed me goodbye. i smelled him in the stale Spirits on my father’s breath, thick with Deep Eddy’s and fleeting potential. i tasted god when i licked the blood dripping from my wounds. animalistic. untamed. |
god is cruel because he doesn’t know of the human condition and he doesn’t know what it’s like to love and lose and l o s e and l o s e A N D L O V E A G A I N . when i finally met god i was on my knees. my mind sharp, my body Divine. to touch, to hold, |