Lord, don’t let me think I can play 
with fire 
and not be burned
to ash 
no concession, like 
the story’s good 
but, you know, I close my eyes 
when it gets steamy 
you take those images straight to bed with you 
don’t play   
gauge out the eye 
to keep heart-pure
that’s what it may feel like 
to cancel your Netflix 
not pretending like
the porn ingested
doesn’t cut out the heart 
of holiness  
call it what it is 


My Bride, I’m sorry 
you’re my standard 
my baseline beauty 
the apex of creation 
God wasn’t playing when he made you 
there is the image of one woman 
I want playing in my head the next 80 years 
it’s you