there's a sunday school
four blocks away from you,
and it's all we ever do:

skip rocks across the lawn
to sidestep what we've become
and the stupid things we've done.

but there's a stained-glass scene
of the nativity
looking down on everyone:
eyes wide and cauterized,
smoke-screened and burglarized,
burning holes through you and me.

if we're never gonna be this
innocent again, then why pretend?

i'm through digging through the words i caught
by accident from you,
cuz if there's something left to lose
then there's nothing left to prove
to the church doors, the chapel steps,
and the sunday schools.

there's a part of you
pinpricked and painted blue,
bullet-holed and broken through,
sunburned by window glass,
covered up by all that's passed,
beaten down and shuttered fast.

i'm through digging through the words
i caught by accident from you,
cuz if there's something left to lose
then there's nothing left to prove
to the church doors, the chapel steps,
and the sunday schools.
to anyone, to me, to you.

there's a sunday school
four blocks away from you,
and it's all we ever do.

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