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Church
Stained glass windows and...
I am shaken awake
My older brother sits besides me
His hand is firmly gripping my arm
His jawbone set
With teeth and lips resting restlessly
The pews... I.. shouldn't be able to fall
Asleep in these crimson pews
Supported by fake wood and only the
Most miniscule amount of cushion
My eyes drift
Back to the boy in the front row
the side across from me
There are galaxies hidden in his eyes
And I suppose some sort of faerie
Blessed his skin
For heavenly it was
Even a better resemblance than that odd
Mural painted with piano faces
Trapped behind the stalemate pulpit
I suppose..
I love something
He's the pastor's child
And i'll be damned
If I did not say he and his father did not share resemblance
In the slightest
