And so on

I would imagine that 

if the skies opened up, 

and the eyes of creation peered down over me

should her hands touch my soul 

and declare a lingeres purity 

perhaps I would have a purpose. 

Perhaps the years of analyzing 

or believing to be alone 

would fall short to a home for me 

beyond the pages of some novel. 

One that I rejected, accepted, 

sang to and obsessed over 

smoke and mirrors to the depths of this deity. 

May she welcome me, 

may she understand, 

may she forgive, 

and may she accept 

this coward, this lunatic

who wanted nothing more than love.