My heart and my eyes are fixed, it’s true.
Come to me quickly when you get your cue.
Run at me whatever you do.
I’ll run, I’ll sprint, let my face turn blue--
climb mountains, jump cliffs to get to you.
I’m surprised by this longing, this longing that grew--
I thought it’d die, but it keeps being made new.
Worship’s a silence with desire pulsed through.
Worship’s a sealing that’s stronger than glue.
Worship’s a shouting between me, between you.
Worship’s a weapon that us both will undo.
No comments:
Post a Comment