I remember the night he spoke to Amber and me
about New Jerusalem
The lamb was wedged between his
cauliflower teeth, and his face was a
“You are taking on
of deceit,” Amber told him.
But he had spied her nakedness
earlier that day, and she knew that her words
spoiled upon her lips
even as she uttered them.
I was powerless to defend her against his
His silver foxed wavy hair had always
and his eyes which intensely covered the table
broke down all
“The good news,” he said in a silky
“never lies, love,
it merely shields us from the truth.”
There was something justified in the way
we murdered him
as he slept
in the dark of the early morning hours
after we had been forced to swallow
for so many years.
Slipping from his bed Amber came and woke me
with a kiss.
The summer birds twittered and chirped outside in
I drew her willowy body close
entering her as she handed me the weapon
“This, this, above all this.”
In his room we gazed down on his shadowed
manly form, and were filled
with a lustful dread.
Amber shrieked then,
suddenly bounding forward,
jumping upon him,
pulled his hair yelling
“Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!
Thus does he fall
and the patriarch!”
as I shoved the wooden spike she found in his workshop
into his gaping mouth,
feeling as it tore flesh and cracked bone.
Screaming gargling words,
we could hear and feel fall over us,
he flailed violent and helpless,
crashing onto the ground
where death finally came to him
all too mercifully
while Amber huddled close to me in fear on the bed.
When his last breath bubbled from his lungs
we got down and knelt
before his body
dipped our fingers in the blood pouring from his mouth
to each mark the other’s forehead.
Amber gathered our belongings as I prepared to set
the fire to the house.
Outside we watched the flames lick the sky
that had turned purple
with the coming new day, and we
listened to the bricks creek and the timbers sizzle
under the stress of the blaze
before they toppled
to collapse in ruin.
“Our genesis,” I said. “There won’t be a
And we left the ashen remains of his home,
removing ourselves from the treacheries of his
turning our backs to the west,
to chase the dawn.