Grace

I decided i needed to write something gracious, and dedicate this poem to a woman i still love, even if it was unrequited. She is a beautiful soul.

I see you there
Angel of mercy
Shining
Like a brilliant star
A Da Vinci creation
Illuminating
an inky black sky
Wings of a dove
Protect you
Delicate moonbeam
Blessed am I
To behold such
Magnificence

If I could reach out
And touch you
Would my yearning
Fingers
Topple your grace?
Would my longing
obliterate your
Cistine chapel sky?
Would the delicate
Dove wings
Be sadistically crushed
Under the weight
Of my sinfulness?
Would you die?

For so long I’ve
Suffered under your
Gracious existence
Shadows thwarting
My undying love
I hold onto every syllable
Of your soulful words
With a prayer
That you’ll steal
My very last breath
And I would fall
To my death
Happy to
Have
Known
Your
Perfect
Grace

©2020 Sarah Drury

Kindergarden Jesus

WARNING: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE

Based on the truth

Kindergarden Jesus

You stand there
Surrounded by littl’uns
Like some kind of
Kindergarden Jesus
You wear graciousness divinely
Like a designer label
Without the ostentation

‘Sarah’ you exclaim
And I want to lay you down
When I hear my name
Spoken like a Psalm
From your deity of a tongue
Two can play this
‘I’m innocent’ charade
Eyes that speak
In shrouded
Synonyms
Eyes that deny
expression

Lips linger
Languishing in laments
Of fuck me now
And we lie side by side
In our kingsize bed
And seductive sonnets
resound
At the perfection of
Your sublime form
And the artistic curve
Of your nubile breast
And whole arias
Are played on the flesh
Of your orchestra bones
I feel like a have a
Back stage pass
To God’s Creation

‘Don’t be a stranger’
Kindergarden Jesus says
Picks a child’s coat up
From off the
Classroom floor
And I see my life
Trodden beneath your
‘can’t fuck you’ feet
And you hold out
your arms as if to meet
Me at the other side
Of the rainbow
But I am not fucking
Dorothy
And we are not in
Fucking Kansas
anymore

Your warm embrace
Is a Judas’ kiss
And I do not confess
Where I am not
The only one
to have sinned

I toss
My counterfeit coins
And wait for the taste
Of my bitter
Betrayal.

©2020 Sarah Drury