I am looking
up at the bluest sky I have ever seen,
cerulean blue, a heaven sky
no one would believe I was under.
You are my witness. No day
is promised. You are absolution.
You are my unwritten to-do list,
January O’Neil, from “Sunday,” Rattle (No. 41, Fall 2013)
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modern dystopian gospel for @ibuzoo‘s Absolution
The memory hit Judah like a knife.
Yeshua’s palm was broad and warm against his throat when he pressed his fingers into the flesh. “What would you do if I’d choked you, Judah?”
A strange constellation of emotions passed through Judah’s body long before panic set in. He remembered his own voice, low like an old record that had been played too often.
“Pray,” he said.
Moan, he meant.
466 notes · View notes