i found a new prophet with hair like warm sand and eyes of soft seaglass, he smelled sweet as summer rain but stung sharp and cold as snow i found a new bible and my prayer was his name. i collected bits and pieces of him in a jar on my bedside table. like fireflies, they lit the night while he baptized me in sweat-stained silky sheets i found a new religion a strange, ephemeral veneration that forced me to my knees. unholy love fevered hot and bright as i tore my soul asunder and offered it my disfigured self. it laughed at my jagged pieces; and still i begged for more i found a new god who filled my lonely ribcage and took up space which ached for its former emptiness. straining at my seams, it burst from the inside out and i lost myself inside the body which i once called my own.
Molly Hart
What The F Guest Contributor
