FASTIDIOUS BOY.

he was like Apollo, a shining sun, a glowing edifice to all that I desired and I was his Icarus and how I fell oh, how I fell

HOW TO LOVE A GOD:   i. be prepared to burn. there is no way this will not spell tragedy, and you know this singsong melody of warning bells: your father’s gentle words, the restless-reckless humming beneath your skin. if you want to love a god, learn to ignore it.   ii. throw yourself off cliffs to teach yourself how to fly. throw yourself off cliffs to teach yourself how to fall.   iii. hollow out your body, divest yourself of these useless mortal organs. fill yourself with longing instead.   iv. know that there are only a handful of gods but a world of mortals. you will not be the first glint of metal to catch the light of the sun, and no matter what you weave into your heart at night, you will not be the last.   v. never forget that you will burn.

The biggest problem with this boy is that he doesn’t seem to believe that he’s beautiful. This is a problem, of course, because he knocks the wind out of you every time he so much as looks at you and you can’t help but think that if he understood his own radiance he would never touch you again.

He says I was made in God’s / image, but I don’t see much that’s holy / in the bathroom mirror, and I / would hate for God / to look like this

I feel fine. A stoic / ice glistens in / me now. I am serene now, / with light.