the Chariot in love

.

you are not a war. there is nothing

to be won here. you asked me once

what my ruin is. what could make me

a monster. I didn’t answer. the answer is,

 

fear. I am that ordinary. I was born

like this. but I have invented new ways

to pray. the clock is a liar who dissolves

in the light. the shower is resurrection central.

 

your mouth is a storehouse of surrogate

bones, you grow fruit trees and crocus

in the back of your throat. give me

your moonshoulders, the stars all over

 

your body, and the keys. hand over

the map. you choose the road. I can keep

both wheels on the ground, I can hold us.

 

– Marty McConnell