Poetry

More to See

We met in a bar,
you know the kind of place,
sticky floors,
animal heads on the wall,
cheap domestic beers.

I took her home,
but we didn’t talk much
which, I remember thinking was weird…
that she didn’t need much convincing.

We listened to a couple records,
smoked a little pot,
and when we fucked,
I saw the origin of the universe.

There was a towering white structure,
stationed within and without
this endless black nothing
and from the center of that place
I saw a figure emerge,
unreal and shifting,
riding out of the tower
on something resembling a horse,
they were riding up and off,
into the void.

In his hands
he cradled it gently,
that specific point of time and space:
The Spark of Creation.

And on his heels, the Nephilhim flew.

Back in my bed,
I scream a name
I have never heard before
and she holds me
through the night, whispering.

She wants to do it
again in the morning,
but I’m too scared,
when I ask if she saw
anything last night,
she only smiles
and sees me off to work.

All day,
I am unable to forget,
I leave the office early,
just to be with her.

She is waiting for me
in my apartment.
I sit her down and we
look into each other’s eyes.

Before the second time,
we speak of many things:

Yes…she has been tested.
Yes…she is from out of town.
Yes…there is more to see.

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