Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Book of John

The first time I fell in love I was fourteen. I found a love note
Stuck between the pages of my bible at church camp; a goofy
Stick figure with glasses waving at me from the book of Galatians,
An almost a realistic portrait of your sharp, crooked smile. I inserted
Your name into the sermon like blasphemous Mad Libs and church
Acquired a feeling of Spring.

The second time I fell in love I thought I was experiencing
A miracle. You returned like as a prodigal lover. I was 16 so
I swallowed every word of apology like it was the last thing I’d
Ever hear you say. I found love notes in my mailbox; I
Found you calling some other girl by the same nickname
That you used for me. I stayed in bed for four Sundays in a row,
Hoping you’d lose your happiness in a field like Judas.

I let myself fall in love again, truly but cynically. We left
Campus so we could pretend we weren’t Christian for a minute.
I dug so deep trying to find the truth; I didn’t climb out in time.
The day you died you took a piece of my faith with you, like a pound
Of flesh, payment for the belief I had in you. In death you were
More honest than ever before.  Now, I only fall in love with facts. 

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