Stranger reaching for God's tongue, whispering stories into his neck, skin canvas for a leather lover,


He spills cathedral shadows into the room, God is screaming through the walls as the boy chokes on gospels in his sleep, stranger speaks to his flesh from below, chewing on pages,


Father does not seem to mind, continues to groom the daughters of the house,


The child follows flowers to the water,

The trees do not allow god to exist here,


Angels do not come near the pond, and the screaming is silent, father and his strangers cannot hear weeping from their wooden heaven,


The boy and his hell stay quiet until the night cries out,


Until then,

He collects fireflies,

Counting stars,
© cankered cupid