(no subject)
Transistor Reflection of Jesus the Adulterer
Functionality is tender beams of zeros and ones, we find, we search, we grow, we learn Jesus through electrons and foul tasting fluid, like the information leaked through the bathroom ceiling into our apartment’s sink, and the upstairs tenant, a suicide, whispered down the walls for conversation one night while we bathed our binary sleep with our silver hands, pooled like a red pillar and we named it Jordan. We drank an eight-ounce cup of milky goodbyes before the salt spoke gently to our guts, from the mountain of an alcoholic’s liver, a reminder that our husband wasn’t the last man inside of us, and this is the closest we’ve been since the birdcage womb, but we swallow anyways, because we want God inside of us, too. Silent worms urge us to answer. Fly, fly, my dear ones, we can go where we want.
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P.S. Sunday and Monday, you win.
Functionality is tender beams of zeros and ones, we find, we search, we grow, we learn Jesus through electrons and foul tasting fluid, like the information leaked through the bathroom ceiling into our apartment’s sink, and the upstairs tenant, a suicide, whispered down the walls for conversation one night while we bathed our binary sleep with our silver hands, pooled like a red pillar and we named it Jordan. We drank an eight-ounce cup of milky goodbyes before the salt spoke gently to our guts, from the mountain of an alcoholic’s liver, a reminder that our husband wasn’t the last man inside of us, and this is the closest we’ve been since the birdcage womb, but we swallow anyways, because we want God inside of us, too. Silent worms urge us to answer. Fly, fly, my dear ones, we can go where we want.
......
P.S. Sunday and Monday, you win.