(SEPTEMBER SECOND, TWENTY-TWENTY-FOUR)

dear red,
dear orange,
dear yellow,
dear green blue indigo violet,

// as a girl, i’m a defier of God.
// to love me is to denounce Her.
// and yet…

only you could tell me this: do you know God? i’ve always hated that question, spiritually speaking. you probably don’t believe in Her either. but God, when you’re nearby…

i find reverence in your presence.

// me. reverence.

only God could tell you this: i found Her right behind your eyes. i’ve always hated blue eyes, romantically speaking. they’re not as easy to gaze into without drowning. but God, when you stare back…

i’ll stay at the pulpit of your pupils.

// me. the pulpit.

only God could tell you this: i found Her beneath the cadence of your voice. i’ve always hated voices, mentally speaking. they seem to multiply as they wash over me. but God, when you whisper…

i lean towards you and picture your scripture.

// me. scripture.

only God could tell you this: i found Her along the curve of your fingers. i’ve always hated holding hands, physically speaking. is it a sign of ownership, somehow? but God, when your hands brush mine…

i pray you’ll hold mine today.

// me. pray.

only God could tell you this:
i found Her in the way the air shifts around your smile,
in the way you quietly search for a seat,
in the way you tuck your hair behind your right ear,
in the way you pause before speaking,
in the way your eyes light up,
IN THE WAY YOU EXIST.

i’ve always hated seeing you, platonically speaking.
i hate the way you make my heart race,
and i hate the way you make my stomach churn,
and i hate the way you text me that you’re home safe,
and i hate the way you compare our hands,
and i hate the way you listen to me talk,
and i hate the way you seem to KNOW me.

you’re wholly holy.

i feel i should repent
for the extent
to which my intent
creates torment.
(i lament
my relent.)

// you. holy.
// me. repent.

i need to throw up, emotionally speaking. i’m so good at expanding these little moments into universes that i bask in. the world will never keep pace with my daydreams. no matter what you say, i’ll break.

I PROMISE I CAN LEARN TO DE-ROMANTICIZE
I PROMISE I CAN TEAR DOWN THIS PEDESTAL
I PROMISE I CAN REALLOCATE THIS ROOM IN MY HEART

BUT BEFORE I HEAR A “NO”
I’LL PRESENT AS REVERENT
IN YOUR PUPIL PULPIT
WHILE I PICTURE YOUR SCRIPTURE
AND PRAY THAT TODAY…
(i might hold your wholly holy hand.)

no worries if not!

sincerely,
your normal, normal, normal friend