i met god

i met god and She was black,
as black as the lies on Her lips
the music. the lullaby.
the song She sings at us.

i met god and She was blacker
than the thoughts
that make my knuckles bleed,
the ones that feed the demons
behind my muscles.

i met god in the middle of
an empty parking lot.
i was sitting in my car
and She fucked me.

She tasted like the sea
like the salt-black pool
that sits in my stomach
and bleeds out my pores.
She smelled like me.

i met god and Her
movements were selfish.
She was brief, She was gone
i was left naked, cold
with no answers told,
no direction.

i met god and She fucked me black.
i met god and She fucked me.

—

“i met god”

Steven Cuenca