Rose of the tunnel Catholic

How far has this tunnel taken me?

down a false hope and up a blankened visage

my hopes and fears are colliding every second to make up my shivering

I hope you will never see me again

because I belong here without the mask

of a desecrated temple

tables overturned, goats loose, feathers cling to my sweat-lidded forehead.

My face may stare into yours

but it clashes with every feature.

My song may be too small to shatter your glass

but it will reverse the linear patriarch, Time.

 

Feed me your graces

on black-topped churches fading ardent, through the color of roses.

a punch in the gut,

the nose

gushing as the children look on like flames. Crumpled to the ground, myself.

the bell tolls from where the Savior stands

Against a grey sky in marble humiliation.

I see stars whilst

everything turns black

your arms carry me to the tollings’ oriental,

The origin. Your lips enslave me on the emptied playground.

The silver pouring lamp pours syrup in the heat

as I’m held back into the gleaming pool.