My God isn’t perfect.
My God is made of skins of color
My God is multidimensional,
inhabiting eyes and souls
and other little beautiful things
that are empty,
vast,
infinite,
and sacred.
My God doesn’t overview us.
He does not look upon us from above.
My God’s colors are smudged across
all of the skies
and galaxies.
My God is the fabric with which the universe
first came to existence.
My God is the first lump of energy
years ago.
He is the moment of creation,
the Big Bang,
the present, past, and all the little
pieces of time
in between.
My God resonates in
the candles lit after midnight.
He is the revolutions
erupting
against governments
and desires
alike.
He is the dark strangeness
hovering around
the thoughts
and little corners in the rooms
of your mind.
He is the light
breaking through
particles
of
him.
My God is made of me.
I, of him.
He is the souls in revelry
and those in black.
My core, my skin.
beyond 