Putting love in the hands of a Christian Woman
Not loving unless we give parts of souls up,
a sacrificial practice, praying to an unidentified deity.
Arms stretched wide open we offer ourselves unto the heavens until we are able to fly
for we are now not weightless, but much less heavy than before
No longer shackled but still not free, we are divine. We are angels, or so we think.
I’m sorry I seduced you the night before last but in this cosmic hemisphere I was believed infinite, even if only by myself. For that area of stardust, that gaping hole in the sky, those 15 minutes in time, I was the definition of sublime. I memorized the iris of your left eye and left you begging even though I don’t like girls.
You radiate freedom and exemplify all things good but angels are not free and not just good, but holy. I must uphold this standard for even though I wish it not be true, I am no exception. Stop calling my phone cause I don’t want to hear your voice full of rich tones and lust, I’m in love with a man.
We give things up for love, this has been reiterated. We are slicing away slivers of our mortal souls in order to obtain our angel status. In the process, we are giving our true selves away, even if it is to god.