An Open Letter To the Stoic and Epicurean In Me

Though usually employed in a mattress store,
sometimes Love works in a morgue,
extracting dead organs.
Because I can be Frankenstein
with unprecedented hopes.

It was a prophecy, maybe, when she said,
"God delights in you"

A blessed curse, you know.

Because his delight is sometimes surgery,
the expression of his voracious wrath
against the voracious wrath in me,
his passion for peace.

"He has banished everyone to disobedience
so that he might have mercy on all,
Oh, the mystery of the Lord"
Oh, the mercy of the Lord

This is the work of the old Holy Ghost,
As He is haunted by my reliance on me
Creeped out by my independence and greed.

He writes books on our hearts with titles like:

"The Lord Delights In You"
"Shut Up and Breathe"
"Delight In Me"
"Delight In Peace"
"Love The Girl"
and
"Leave Your Needs To Me"