Good Little Heathen Girl
For my desire for my God burrows into my flesh like sharp talons into my naked shoulder.
A pain so delightfully endured.
For my desire for my God burrows into my flesh like sharp talons into my naked shoulder.
A pain so delightfully endured.
He set out on a pilgrimage, his lips the travelers, following the path of my freckles as if they were maps of the stars. And they were. Our bodies were constellations, each moment, each breath, its own star, dying in the night in bursts of flame and white.