You send me inspirational wishes
Myriad blessings of messages
It is so patronizing, yet sweet and I cry
Oh no! Not for long.
There are no angels
There are no soul mates, and your God represents a pitiful beggar of hopelessness
I folded your notes
Threw them off the 3rd floor
Where they landed dead,flat like the reality we are in now
Just get down and dirty
Do what you really want to do with me, you so-called religious man
Leave the blinds and windows open
I want your angels to see that the desire of the devil is always in my bed
And your loving the shared enjoyment that is real between us.