5 Minutes

Five minutes ago, I met you in red—
Heat on your tongue, a promise unsaid.

Laughter in wine, unknown how it bled,
Or to which grave your footsteps had led.

Nothing I wanted, but yet you sold more
Eternal, unyielding holiness through your door.
A love you would give, I’d never know war
So gospeled in hymn, I knelt as your whore.

I thought I heard God, bloodied in Word,
To Him I sent question on wings of my bird.

“To him, go with,” something would say,
Knowing all five stones bearing that day.

Those minutes ago, when I met you in red,
You fooled me by quoting the nails that bled.
For if you believed all you had said,
Your very heart would mourn its dead.

Five minutes ago, love was your Eve.

To cradle the ache, a willing to grieve.
Then, I knew not all ways you deceive—

Five minutes have passed,
My ghost I believe.