Brionne Janae

THE WICKEDNESS OF GOD

bid me at thy thrown of mercy find a sweet release

—from Pass me not O gentle savior

kneel and let skydaddy keep you

bound deep in contrition

let him wind his rope limb

to torso   take his bit

bite down and be reigned in

you have been wild

bad even   now lower your eyes

and meditate on your filth—

you are bottomless

a hole eager for its filling  

be thee filled with his spirit

ridden from mercy to mercy

grace to grace   be thee

saved from your unbelief

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