August 2011
2 posts
untitled three.
your death left patches, patches in my skin.
so she tattooed lines, and kept you inked in.
prophet/profit.
we built Your house with the help of mammon, so strong.
and we pray that the children are fed tonight.
his tongue, ‘prophetic’. he speaks Your name so eloquently.
in his pockets, profit. let’s kiss that gold cross again.
and we pray that the children are fed tonight.
you can’t contain the Spirit, but this den is selling doves.
selling Your grace because we know it isn’t cheap.
and we...