ur sleeping on the couch

no rest for the wicked

he wears the rings of saturn like halos hovering over his head
a crown created, an artist's demise
he swallows the moon in halves
like cherry jam on white bread
he cannot paint me like i paint him,
his nectarine lover scrawling him across the sunset,
she cannot paint him like i paint him
rose gold and dripping sunlight
her stolen kisses like blasphemy against my lover's tongue.
he'll hang himself with a rosary noose, he says, jesus choking him in his sleep-
his eyes soft like mother mary and heart parted like the red sea
crying holy water
she is a firm believer, dressed in white with verses in her mouth
i am not;
i am supposed to believe in one god,
but i believe in two.