Poetry for the Devil.


1. bury us.


we have the Devil in our eyes and

a thousand thunderstorms in our veins

snaking like grapevines through blood so thick 

that it chokes us in our sleep

bubbling like the champagne we sip in the back seat 

of daddy’s Cadillac in the dead of night

cruising like queens with no kingdom 

ancient gods with no throne to sit on

running blindly through the mildew in the long grass

naked in the forest behind our high school 

digging our toes into the wet mud in plant pots

and scraping our fingernails against headstones

smoking the bones of the buried souls beneath us

behind the stained glass windows of our Sunday Church

lying bruised at the altar and strapped to the cross

their eyes as bright as the fire they burn us in

their hearts as poisoned as the wine in our throats

their laughs echoing in our empty skulls

writing eulogies with the dried blood on our tongues

burying us at opposite ends of the graveyard

but if they looked for just a heartbeat longer

they would find us lying in the bones of what they believe -

just two girls kissing.

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