Always crossed – trying love, like a forged knife against a naked throat
a nightmare
You write the curse on my forehead
and like Cain I have to walk the barren lands
Perhaps it was the force of my wrath
that clad you naked on the cross
and hey, honestly – I enjoy being your executioner, God
There I’m dangerous
You’re pathetic
But when I see your tenderness bleed
from every orifice of your body
my doubt begs the question
How can you call yourself God
when you can’t even see through the cloak of the Pharisee
I’m your Judas, he who throws his brother
into the empty well
not to kill you, no, not that really
but to see if your love is even stronger
the betrayal burns in me
every time
every time you turn your merciful gaze to my womb
and ask
– Do you still want to be loved?
Powerlessness 
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