Evening and Morning on the Sixth Day

I was dazzled by the gilted world,

blinded by the glow

of this Rococo planet.

we wave our signs and smile and laugh,

and we ask girls to dances and drive them home

and assure their parents that yes it was a celestial night.

we’re gilted in these niceties and manners,

making promises of hope

and shows of fire.

but underneath the gold, it is a guilted world,

full of men pawing at the sky like the loathsome beasts

they think they are.

and when we feel in darkness the first true touch of love

it comes upon us like a sunrise that no one could imagine

in a never ending night. Like blind men given sight

we weep in joy, baffled by the inconceivable:

that the very souls we hate — our own —

are somehow worthy of another’s love.