Saturday, June 6, 2009

Your Enemy Is White

The child sat alone in the dark.
This replica he held of Noah’s’ arc,
Inevitably crushing his mark.
Everything that was wrong he grew up to believe was right.
If it was right, it couldn’t be wrong.
He made every move with such ease, every touch was fire, and every breath was gold.
He made you long for more. Made you feel like you couldn’t live without.
And you had some choice in the matter, but you certainly didn’t have any doubt.
He set your heart alive, and it ached with every word that couldn’t be said. And when he spoke to you, you lost your voice.
When he sang, you forgot where you were, and when he looked at you, nothing else could come close to mattering.
He feared with a powerful force and loved with an even greater entity.
He could fly. But he didn’t. There was no need to prove anything to anyone, but himself. He already knew the only person he needed to be on grounds with was facing him in the mirror.
He glowed like the moon.
And as silently as it drifted to day, he poured out white light from his soul.
And every time you thought of his power over you, you remembered what little he had over himself. And you prayed that he would see the angel he was and always destined to be. And you hoped that he would see that everything you wanted and loved, was everything he already was.

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