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Stained glass windows were a beautiful shine;
bright as a girl's innocent face. Shapes
spiral around the cushioned red
carpet ground. Dress shoes and heels
molded deep in the rugs, like the warming love
my family has mended in their hearts, pocketed for me;
though, unknowingly loving their idea
of Satan sewn into a daughter.
I’ve been hallowed out by wooden spoons
and flushed of liquid silk in my skeleton.
I am filled full of fire, for He
set me ablaze. Women
were just so pretty. And I die
kissing gentle lips that never
burned like I was told
they would. It felt of bright spring
flowers that grew in fields
of tall grass. It was soft,
warm as freshly brewed tea. Spades
were always pulled in our decks,
though they never chopped
the flowers we grew.
Petals mourn the roads
of my town. I act as a flower
girl, tossing my love
and pride for everyone
to judge. Rainbows radiate
in the sanctuary, inevitable
and colorful for all
congregations to see.