Friday, January 1, 2021

1st week of 3rd jubilee

I see your troubles, invisible to me

I breathe your air, suffocating me

I dream your imaginations, portending of me

In the dream 

We draw near the gate of God with breakfast cakes

I also ascend silently halfway up the mount with chunks from my wounded gut

We silently discuss the merits of muted screaming

In the dream

You hate because the demons eat your pain like starving gluttons

You mock because the demons applause and cheer like it’s monday night football 

You bite through flesh because the demons love seeing wives get slugged in the face 

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