To Live Upon a Platen【POETRY】

To Live Upon a Platen

With every keystroke of God, Her typeface darkens the sky.

The black and crimson veil of inky life

She weaves upon this field of white.

The veil so gently caresses the stars to their dull slumber.

In the name of creation, she ruptures the platen page planet.

The heavens’ steel rushes forth, carving canyons into pure snow.

The stains it leaks reek of forever: every perfection a sin, every mistake a weak wound.

The scars She invokes on the field will last until fire takes all.

She is no deity without competition.

And those fire-wielding tyrants of capital-H Him

Will always take shelter in the ashes of burnt creation.

But She'll never let them take Her hands.

Nor the planets She's sculpted.