your glorious indifference

you could love her anywhere

here it goes: more metaphors about her light-brown stare, about the way she is a halo under the sun.                                                                                                                                                                                        her skin as soft as ripe peaches, her mouth as sweet as honey.                                                                  this girl is something your body should not want,                                                                                            not in this small town in where kissing girls is sinful and wrong and it makes their eyes widen and their mouths drop.

here it goes: more metaphors about always having to glance over your shoulders; about how the windows are always closed, the doors always locked.                                                                                 
this girl is the most beautiful thing you have ever laid hands on.                                                             you only kiss her in places eyes can't reach, in places their whispers can't be heard.                          her laughter is holy music, her eyes as bright as city lights.                                                                   

you will never apologize to your mother for loving her no matter how much she hates you for it.

here it goes: if you could, you'd love her in broad daylight.                                                                          her father watches television and complains about how the fucking queers are infiltrating every moral standard.                                                                                                                                                                 he quotes Leviticus and calls it a sin, calls it perversion. he spits in disgust and shudders.                his dirty gun is always clipped to his waistband, his eyes are always searching for something to abominate.

here it goes: she is always quiet and she loves you that way.                                                                     you could love her in the middle of a war zone.                                                                                               she cries and says god made her wrong.                                                                                                             she cries and says this isn't what love is supposed to look like.                                                                 she walks with her head down in shame, she never looks you in the eye anymore.                              you want her to see you, you want to scream something like:

forget everything you know about god. forget the prayers, the holy book, their cursed words. forget Leviticus and Deuteronomy and Corinthians. forget your father's anger and your mother's hollow words. god had never damned us. i could love you in every place eyes can reach and we might as well give them something to talk about. forget their words, forget their moralistic stares.                                                                                                                                                                                         i could love you anywhere, i could love you in a war zone.

here it goes: she walks with her head down. she is ashamed and apologetic when it to comes loving you.                                                                                                                                                                          you love her despite it.                                                                                                                                                    you love her anywhere.
you could love her in the middle of a war zone.

more metaphors about her hands, about the wildflowers in her hair.                                           
more metaphors no one will ever get to read.