By Allanah Graham

The unrequited holy war;

Abrogation of your blood.

Obsessive purity of your ribs

Picked clean from the decay of it.

You wish to stand in the field with
God as you did with your father.

Your head bloodied yet unbowed;

Reveled in the embrace of Exodus.

When the eye of God falls upon you
You wish to be staring back at He,

But the anvil laying in the space
Between your lungs is halting.

O, how close an offense to
Innocence can get you to Him!

You may scratch and beg,

You cannot rid yourself of
The looming pooled eye.

–

Allanah is a writer from the south who aims to explore the relationship between the natural world and mysticism. Her favorite authors include Angela Davis, Franz Kafka, and Fyodor Dostoyevsky. You can find her on instagram @allanahgraham_.