An End to Start
Love lacerates the wind,
your breath bleeds in the breeze,
your whispers stain my dreams
with red.
I hear you,
even when you don’t speak.
Your screams
color the inside of my skull
a shade of burnt burgundy.
Blue and purple bruises
form from your teeth,
which I feel in the chilling wind
that scrapes my skin.
Against the yellow sun,
I am the multicolored church glass
to your soul that I worship,
and I am ready to break
to show all your true glory.
I don’t speak of blasphemy.
I speak of love.