Me Plus Elohim

There’s a whisper

beneath my skull

but above

the brain,

and it harbors

every little 

pin of pain,

pricking in

and sticking

out.

I used to think

all love

songs

were the end

of it.

That everything 

would tie up

bow tight,

because 

I belonged 

to Elohim,

and He 

to me

but then 

the dark

comes. 

Sometimes.

And the shadow

calls.

Sometimes.

But every time,

that whisper

above brain,

below bone,

and I know,

I am 

forever

and always

His.