I want you
to cause God’s name
to bloom from my open mouth;
Zeus’ lightning to proliferate
through mine iron-bearing vessels.
Glitching, blipping
In, and Out:
phalangeal tracings leaving
dopamine in their wake,
ascending a ladder
of spinous processes,
sacrum-to-crown somatic
piloerections; the chill
of invernal airs intaken
proliferating bliss throughout
a body to which
I can only, momentarily,
lay claim.
Please,
let me continue
to believe;
please,
allow mine
worship-at-your-feet;
please, I beg:
do not permit
me to leave.
I ache to see
the gunpowder glinting
in your eyes.
