Unsent

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You were my golden boy, my baby Jesus.

I washed your feet in the river and the current of the Ganges carried us away
I followed you out of Egypt, my very own preacher of Galilee 
You taught me how to worship, and I taught you how to tend the sheep
You cracked the earth open with your staff and became the shepherd of my dreams

Only then did I notice the red water flowing in the rivers and streams

All the first borns? Was that really necessary? 

I’m a god fearing women, an ex Babylonian 
You forgave all my sins, my long haired Chaldean 
But piety tastes like the sea dried out, and I’m puffy from too much sodium 

You were my god and I was a loyal disciple
Your word was holy and final, and I, just the gospel
I had to write the book because you refused to speak it 
If you lost interest I would climb a mountain to peak it 

I laid my whole body on the altar but turns out you didn’t even want my sacrifice 
Now that’s a walk of shame, holes in my sandals and contradicting advice 

Together we had no children but I gave birth to a new world, over and over again
You liked to flood the valleys but eventually the rain would end

World building on a scale of a San Francisco rental
I created legends of you walking on water, now the ocean just makes me sentimental 

My prayers fell on deaf ears, but I’m a fighter like Mars
Under my tunic this body is covered with blushing pink scars 
What’s the point of a crusade? 
When you have to fight for what you believe in you fight with a double edged blade

Though I’ve stopped believing in Gods I still have faith in time
It gifted the seven days, and it breaks down all things like an acid or an enzyme 
Lemons I make sweet treats out of but you gave me limes
You never saw my divinity, but now I see mine 
You’re irrelevant but your indifference still hurts sometimes

When I least expect it.

 
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Kay is a composer of stories, songs and screenplays. This Los Angeles copywriter is a renaissance woman, classically trained with a cosmopolitan focus. She is a lifelong scrapbooker and has a knack for rendering images on an Etch-a-sketch.


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The Return of Selectivism