nimbus

sidewalk preachers 

are rarely heard 

and much less 

believed 

I’m craving a hint of

casual conversation, 

the kind that stimulates

a body part, any part

when I wanted truth

I bought the knife,

I was gonna go...

I just never got there

I still carry it, my 

piece of mind, my

reminder of things

to come, my aesthetic

sex is truth, but

only for a moment,

the lie of loving one 

while fucking another 

I believed the preacher

when he said I would be

saved, but I haven’t 

known a savior

I have 

this knife

(My photo)