I Believe

I remember the marble
the pressed stone
the waxy glow
circles and circles
above me

I was a child here
I was a lover here
without a family
without a tower

Worn wood beneath
trembling thighs
as I searched
blurry-eyed and broken
across the pews
for the one to whom
all my letters
had been addressed

Nameless. Viceless. Flawless.
Dark. Murderous. Perfectly Ruined.
My mistake. My lonely, twisted King.

You were never in that
goddamned church
You were across the water
a bridge away
hating yourself
for falling in love
with a fairy tale

How was it, then,
that I came to hold you?
Arms tight
a shield against the danger
The scent of heartache
heavy in the trembling air
as vibrato and memory
stretched together
to form this
penitent pair
on the floor
of the cathedral


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