Drenched in the sweat of two carnivores feasting on repented flesh, I have written I love you. I have spoken wisdom into deaf ears for I know they can hear me through actions better than words. Mirror mirror on the wall, you rewrote this phrase so everyone may be beautiful? I saw a man with ambition and glory in his eyes, he was beautiful. He was me. Oh hallelujah on the frontier of his eyebrows, this man was holy. Fallen or guardian angel, this man was phenomenally gorgeous. When I spoke he spoke. When I moved he moved. He could mimic me better than I could be me. And he was, me. Damn, I’m a lucky soul. Have a serpents tongue and the eyes of a devil. Sinister beauty. Tell me somethings about myself that only the depths of the Euphrates know. That only the graveyard of my ancestors know in the depletion of their marrow. Oh I’m a sinister soul. I’m a blessed vessel. I’ve sacrificed myself to the Most High, peace be upon their name, I’ve sacrificed myself to love. But ain’t nobody, celestial or otherwise, want this soul. So here I am writing poems on the 1 train like a man possessed. Tell me something Heavenly Beings, since when did mortal men live with such fire in their belly. My mother must of had Hell in her womb. She loved me like the River Styx, paid the ferry man a bag of gold coins to send me to NYC. She was content in my sin. My sin? Carry that on me like skin never shed for its embroidered in arteries like blood work. Tell me something Lucifer, how was it bearing Light? Cause you bore me and never knew I would be a soul.