In my dreams

We undressed the moon in a borrowed bed
I fed him my prayers, he painted them red
He said, "There is no mercy in what you crave"
Then vanished like incense above a grave

I have
No fire
Only the scent
Of something holy
And badly spent

I once was his altar, I once was his knife
He drank from my shadow and called it light
But hunger grows cruel when the feast is done

Today I saw
silk threads in a prophet's dream
Where nothing is sacred and everything screams

I have
no temple
Only the ash
Of what we summoned
In one brief flash

I have
No lover
Only the taste
And memory
Of something holy
Growing through the cracks of the concrete

I offered him altars, he offered me silence
He said, "Even the damned must mourn what they've lost"
(Can't say i blame you)

I was hunger, not meant to be fed
And on that night
Your kiss was a curse that bloomed in my throat

I understand
There is no salvation
Only his hands
And what they refused to hold