Reinforced,
I move.
Your god is a guy.
Free to move, and run,
and hide.
Each man has his guy.
Sanctuary in disguise.
Holy hidden place,
where only seekers are allowed.
Where personal conventions
are broken and remolded.
Traditional lack of balance.
Lousy conformity.
Sanctified disparity.
I thank myself for the entitlement.
No time to care, or hold onto.
ancient beliefs.
To be forgiving of myself?
Fuck your hiding place.