I never believed in Jesus.
I never found a god.
We made love in a field full of burnt skies.
Undreamt, these dangerous curtain calls.
We spat in monochrome waterfalls.
Our eyelids caught the evening dew.
We touched eyes in a forest full of dreams,
languished deep impurities that sat beneath the skin.
We lost our language but captured colours in
the depths of our visions and bottled up our sins.
We imagine our skulls sewn together in webs,
followed your eyes, echoes of an eclipse.
I believed that God had found me in a kiss
so spiders crawled inside our heads.