Start by pulling him out of the fire andhoping that he will forget the smell.He was supposed to be an angel but they took himfrom that light and turned him into something hungry,something that forgets what his hands are for when theyaren’t shaking.He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happenbecause you had him first, and you would let the worldbreak its own neck if it means keeping him.Start by wiping the blood off of his chin andpretending to understand.Repeat to yourself“I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you”until you fall asleep and dream of the placewhere nothing is red.When is a monster not a monster?Oh, when you love it.Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.Here are your upturned hands.Give them to him and watch how he prayslike he is learning his first words.Start by pulling him out of another fire,and putting him back together with the piecesyou find on the floor.There is so much to forgive, but you do notknow how to forget.When is a monster not a monster?Oh, when you are the reason it has become so mangled.Here is your humble offering,obliterated and broken in the mouthof this abandoned church.He has come back to stop the worldfrom turning itself inside out, and you love him, you do,so you won’t let him.Tell him that you will never know any better.
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