messianic metamorphosis

Elis Cooke_Metamorphosis V

(c) Elis Cooke Metamorphosis V

stranger seconds of solitude, don’t look at me, i cross, i’m still, i kneel
forge your secrets and forget your testimonies, a sucker for sins i am
you said i’ll carry you, i say come into me
a redemptive chorus slides anemically, you procrastinate
seize me virgin again
measure the strokes you blessed the surface with
lost in control, uncontrollable lust,
the end ticks inside of her, she wants jesus
his flesh is her survival, her prayer is for pain and release
in the late hour she commits, yearning for the kingdom coming
in the air the scent is near, veins collide, massacres confront
she moans tell me your story
i am and will be he grabs satan
dual and carnal they reside
devour your demons don’t forsake them
she masks her desires, he interrupts her being
brutal chaos he recites and croons all over the sight of her while she sheds herself entirely
i vow clearance and damnation
and her mouth seeks for trophy skin open in search of the mother’s breast she aims for jesus and his sacrifice.
in despair and delight he moans the sacred away, hungry for destruction
shiva dressed as kali, he sees them
and marks her the scar of rapture, burns her deadly
perverting jesus she misses eternal life
sweat of the son faith of the mortal you beg i bleed
rhythm of the gospel i come i find i lose the way
head tilt back you spread i clutch your hands, drown in gasping
division of self unity of flesh, the breathing is now sacred.
with the electric power of a thousand gods
i felt your guitar inside of me
igniting twitching immortality, emanating virtuosity
delivering an islanded ebb and flow with orchestral drive
the sound is a trumpet and a martyr and a whore and a visionary and a saint and a preacher and a son and a virgin and a mary a god of all empty filled with grace and make-believe
she is redeemed in his seed
entrenched in pain each other’s corrupt, corruptible game
have they all been the same?
saints are splashing pleasure pleasure begets pain
she is scattered and released, he lays mute and sinful he understands what god has meant for him
consumption and chaos
to trigger pleasure, to err in sacrificial insanity, to die in spiritual bliss
she kneels beside him, he joins her hands
crucifixion throws them in neglect, arrows pointing heaven
streams of red rivers glow in ecstasy
she is christ now.

First published by Walking Is Still Honest Press (W.I.S.H. Publishing) on January 7, 2015


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