In the Garden of Light and Shadow

if hell exists,
i hope there’s music and heat;
and every feeling i tried
to behave away
finds me,
pulls me close, and says:
ready to stop running
so you can finally
fucking dance?

if there's such a thing as sin,
it's refusing to sing
because someone
flinched at your volume.

if heaven has a playlist,
it starts with static,
ends with laughter,
and every track in between
was chosen by someone
who broke,
burned,
missed the mark,
and still remembered
how to hit play
when the floor gave out.

if god is real, i swear
they sound like the chorus
you scream in the car
after you finally admit
you were the problem
and still deserve
grace.

listen babe,
your body is an instrument
and shame is just bad acoustics.
of course the song sounded wrong
in a room built to punish echo.
go on now.
let the universe hear
how loud love gets when
it remembers every note by heart.
--Christopher Sexton
I too like to lie naked upon my bed on a cold winters day and let great sunshine through an open window heal my soul.
 
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