Lilly Schmidt - Drunk of God's Golden Apple (Poetry)

Drunk of God’s Golden Apple

Honey coded lips, kissing
trailing golden rope
between us when we
pull apart.
We have discovered sex,
and are beautifully, sickly sticky,
my eyes a Kaleidescope of color
and yours honeycombed in my view.
How could God hide something so beautiful?
How could God be so selfish
as to not share liquid sun,
dropping from the palm of his hand
into our hungry mouths, hungry
hands, hungry bodies,
hungry for more-
honey chains trapping our mouths
on each other;
lovesick and setting flames to the garden.

 

After sex for the first time since
You dumped me, you say, “So, Seattle?”
This town is our garden.
Seattle is rainy, and we won’t remember the ashes of home.

 

Yesterday marked one month since I attempted to char my own skin for change, and I am still angry that I have not been returned to dust.
You asked me over for cookies last time.
Oat cookies, watermelon vape, and sweaty sex.
We light a candle and smoke
hangs in the air, drowning the scent of our impulsion.
We cannot hide in the bushes to avoid the flames of our mistakes.
They will burn us down, and we will watch every leaf curl inward, in shame.

Crucify Expansiveness

If all I know is the back
of your hand, is that not enough?

Falling out with infinity.
I only want to learn
Saturn and her sisters by
name, and only recognize my own star

I crave the crumbs you
spill about childhood, and
lick for love that is not mine on your lips.

Every time you whisper a
devotion done wrong by your last love
I pull open my journal to
scrawl your creed.

You are who I build my alter and burn
sacrifices too.

The bible warns against
other Gods, but I have torn pages from it
to write my prayers to you.

God has the

expansiveness
of the world,

But you have mine.