Crunchy Anarchy

I wanted to cross the barrier
perched on fog’s slippery mount
as it rolled out
God’s floor

This made me a condemned woman

for having practiced my style of grace
as I walked out on a bed
of sharpened steeples

Praying with my tongue stuck out
Daring to taste
a drop of
Heaven’s forbidden rain

It is not like I didn’t try…
for I had practiced enlightenment
til my head swelled and herniated the sky

But my heart wandered in place
finding only veins

and now, I take my nourishment
in air and silence,
carry this burden, with pride,
of these God forsaken chains

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