all of my butterflies could not
crush your defenses
tell me, can you travel faster
than God now
i will lie in the ruins of this-
memories of hands, scents, smoke
will you make me holy then
choking out absentminded religion
speaking in lovers tongue and would
you be to blame if i learned to
touch myself that way
wearing forgiveness as a second skin
rather than praying for it
you shiny devil
you never learned how not to touch
what doesn't belong to you

02/06/2003

Posted on 02/07/2003
Copyright © 2026 Olivia Weinkein