God Was Watching Their Eyes

Spurious believer,
He has left your solemn pew
With his fickle tongue
Tied around his teeth
Not to risk the beloved grin.

Last words,
I found superfluous,
His turn of phrase, clever,
Built like a palindrome.

I wish I could copy that
Gold-tipped smirk of devils,
Their slow speech
While they stand
Awkwardly draped
In a red blush
The color of my first sin.

Oh, Holy,
Some shout, some whisper
Hands trembling with
Confident expectation.
A miracle, says he,
A miracle in this here cup
Watch it overflow.

I never could taste anything
But moss on my lips
A cold quiver of crunch
That evaporates into
Crumbs and enzymes.
I never taste anything,

Watch the man lift his scepter
He will rattle a bell when
You are supposed to feel
The gush of wind keeping
Time with your happy pulse.

My eyes reach the symbol man
And click, attach on to his
Gloomy, white robes,
His faintly tapping feet.
I will tell him I am watching,
I am watching, sir,
So please do not mock us.

My finger caught in a crevice,
Stuck between leafy psalms and
Old, out of tune hymns.
I sang these to dolls once,
My friends, my puddles of dirt.

Oh, luxurious man with your
Silver goblet hidden behind
A creaky mesh door.
Tell me how to drink
Without tasting the pungent
Sweetness of grapes, that
Slight hint of clover?

Light of light, all I see
Under my pillows is
Hushed fabrics rustling.
My mother fixed my sheets
So that I no longer dangle
My feet along the floor.

My eyes, my eyes
Look deep within and
Tell me if you see a
David to fight your Goliath.
Peer into devious pupils
And speak to me of memory.

I can shut them gently while
Crooked hands gesture
To the hanging man blessed
In his indecency, in his sad,
Inadequate naked form.

I keep speaking to avoid
Exposure of the empty stars.
My words come and go
But when uttered out loud,
Stand up against concrete.

If his eyes could really see
Then I would not be here
Knees tucked in demurely,
Joints crackling,
While my body begins
Its mad descent
Back to infancy.

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