i

I am my own curator

My own dance

My own song

I am a flash-fire of brillance

I’m the institution of the very-not-godly-

-But-so-dearly-loved

I am the epitome of being forgiven

I am solute

I am solution

I dissolve the trace marks of past lives, past lies, asinine

The tattoos that declare unlovability

I am tree

I am forest

I am bird

I am bee

I am a cultivator of warmth

An elevator to the stars that

God lives upon

A hostel for the sea sick, the lonely, the lost

I am a compass to myself

A guide for the weary

I am salvation’s sweet kiss

And the face of God.

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