since then, i branded myself as faithless with the fear of worshipping you more than my god.
i knew you were a destruction the first time i had a grip of the war-liked lining on your palms and of how they deify aesopian gods. you have the eyes of Rameses that's been my grandmother's most feared nightmare, i sense how your tongue loves fallacy for i behold how your ancestors exchanged old wives' tale for supper. you're a seed of Adam, no wonder half-truth fable was stuck on your teeth, you wore wreckage like Hades' tomb and i can still smell the scriptures you tried to eat to mock my religion.
like the warnings of Paul in Ephesus, they warned me of how perilous loving you could be. but they should see how i rebel on the ancient norms of my faith, that even the angels sighed in disgust when i love you.
they said that your soul is not a cathedral but rather a calvary, for you bear wreckage that turned my altar into broken stones, you ruined the symphony of my every hallelujah and alter it into a psalm of rebellion.
but i swear, that all your promises became my bible that caused me to stay awake at devil's hour, the battle scars etched on your palms turns into a sacred writings that behold a myriad of secret poetries. god, i wasn't lying that i catched Venus' hues in your orbs where my grandmother hold envy since then. you are the exact taste of treason and they will never know your ways of freeing me from the rosaries that handcuffed me since my baptism, as we vomit the testaments and beliefs that fenced our heartbeats. we laughed as we raised our red flags to a lord that the dreamless hailed as we protest that our fate should not be authored by prophets, our life is not a fucking chess game needed to be controlled.
darling, you might be the monster that believers feared in Apocalypse, but only i can testify how you can love like Corinthians.