On the backdrop
of a tidal wave of faith,
I gave fate the middle finger,
staring down hatred in the mirror.
I planned an escape until
I caught wind of the subtle
pride hidden in a thought
she locked under a rock,
avoiding the mosaic reflections
of the signs behind her blue eyes
The bottom of forsaken time
left polaroid silhouettes
of us tangled in bedsheets.
The essence of the divine
broke us free of the shame
for the lust intertwined
with swallowed pride.

Twitter – @AC0040

(© 2023 AC)

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