the sickly sweet lights of the floating gas prices reach around corners to illuminate Her - tall and dark and inhuman, yet warmskinned and butterflywinged and holy, holy, holy.
i haven’t been to church since my cousin’s first communion, before that, hardly ever, yet her eyes - everywhere - and her hands, soft, take me somewhere only god can see.
our cheddar cheese chex mix and my three dimes in change hang heavy, the coins on my eyes and pretzels in my lungs hold tight as subaru headlights keep me aware, held at arms length, known.
minutes pass and the gilded halo around her turns softer, yellow now, almost green in our swamp-stained brick and metal castle, here just for us to conquer to share sticky secrets and coca cola.
when i left, we scraped our initials into its loose mortar and split a pack of m&ms over quiet goodbyes and flashlight beams late at night, stuck through windows and quiet - and my church, my pastor, and my god stayed with her.
Oliver Kelley is an aspiring writer, creator, and cat owner. They work mainly in narrative work, but they also run a long term Dungeons & Dragons campaign and write a lot of poetry.