from the raised view of my twin mattress

I see the blue static that stems from my fingertips to different household objects,

A small lightning that connects me to earth

To the wooden and brown things and things made of leather.

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Steel Blue

Watercolors drip down the white wall you’ve built between us

(at least you cared enough to make it beautiful)

And I only hope my cadence scribbled in Crayola will find it’s way to you.

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if god were a man

If God were a man

He would look just like you

Except something tells me not even he could be as handsome.

But, if he dare be,

I’d start to pray again

With your name on the knuckles of my folded hands.

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