you told me you loved me baby

you ate breakfast from the palm of my hands
the very hands that aligned the earth underneath the stars for you
rotated the planets just so you could look up and have something to reflect the God in you
you drank from my rivers
as i spilled over into your life with my nourishment
you grew from my springs
i fed you faithfulness on a spoon with a sterling hand
and like the god i made you out to be, your reflection was that of a common man
you never cease to amaze me with your humanity
with your greed, your lust, your morning breath
your craven mouth swelling on breasts i don't recognize
i apologize though for not being able to feed you mediocrity disguised in sex
there is nothing mediocre about this vagina
and i only know that because you told me over and over again
under a plastered ceiling with the heat of our bodies on fogged windows
you loved me
i could never make that up even if you did
but your love is more human than it should be
your love wanders to dark places and cheap thrills
and then tells me that this is what heaven feels like
if this is heaven then whose god are we having a conversation with?
all i know is that you ate breakfast from the palm of my hands
but you didn't bother staying for dinner