passion

the candlesmoke singsong
sour salty smell
people on plastic chairs green
to match the dimming walls

myself pitched into resonance
with this ululating
relentless march into sorrow

oh for that misstep

instead of this destiny
of someone too beautiful to be
alive in this place

perhaps we were asking you
to fail just a little

because who would dare
have compassion for god?

we are not notorious for it
content to prophesy unsurprised

after all we know how to weep
and harvest regret

my god