I cried out for my mother,

As I began falling in,

Into the pit with my lover,

Into the churning pool of sin.

 

The water boiled but ran freezing cold,

We thrashed and screamed for fear of sinking,

Spat Hallelujahs to spurned entities,

He dragged me further under, without even thinking.

 

But I found solace in his touch, his body,

And the intertwinement of our voices,

Which resounded back spritely like a harp,

And with that melody I thought with shame of my choices.
 

For in that moment of pure clarity,

The granite wind began to heal,

The whirling pool began to calm,

And from your body I did peel.

 

For there’s only so much knowledge,

To be found in the gin,

Only so much silence,

Before the birds begin to sing.

 

Thus I hauled my gasping body from my prison,

And threw my crumbling heart toward the dirt,

Thronged myself skywards, seething and howling,

Reeling with anger, gluttoned on hurt.

 

For like the wife of Lot,

I snapped my gaze back to him,

As he sunk into the darkness, and I didn’t feel a thing.