Bible

He laughs nervously,
Tries to hide the damning evidence deep within the confines of a plastic shopping bag
Because while he knows she wouldn't chastise him,
He can’t help but wonder what she’d think.

Confronted, he brushes off the significance of the leather-bound tome
And tries not to feel the cumbersome weight off-balancing him as he speaks,
As he lies, because
He can’t help but wonder what she’d think.

She asks why.
She can’t understand.
He knew she wouldn't.
He asks why not.

Alone, in his room, he peels off the cellophane wrapper,
Like a child unwrapping a candy,
And forces the stiff spine to bend under his touch;
He hopes for answers and searches for meaning within the thin sheets.

The gold embossed lettering scrawled across the cover warns him of what lies within.
The tiny font does not reconcile with his heart.
The word of god in his hand has never felt lighter;
The pounding organ in his chest has never felt tighter.