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God, and other words for it

Celina Bagchi '24

I don't believe in God, I believe in

fitting you like a glove or the seafoam

breaking over rocks on the shore forever. I believe in

loving you til it kills me, and I become

dust under the heel of your boots. I believe in

a pretty face with eyes like stars and rain

falling on the pavement around us. I believe in

not knowing how to tell you that

you’re my everything. I believe in

sort of awkward kisses and windblown dark hair that

tousles under my fingers. I believe in

loving a heart that was never mine and your hands on

my hips, marking me yours. I believe in

penning songs that are about you and giving you everything

only to find it’s not enough. I believe in 

telling you I’m fine and breaking down over drinks that

don’t erase your scent. I believe in

train tracks stretching to infinity, in not seeing where they end

and not seeing where I end. I believe in

thoughts that are shaped like you and listening to that one song

just to hear the line that reminds me of you. I believe in

you loving me, or wanting to love me, or pretending

you did. I believe in

my existence becoming words you puffed out like

cigarette smoke that dissipates in seconds. I believe in

being less than a memory, in you forgetting me

even when I’m still standing here. I believe in

small talk til we run out of words to say and

roads that only go in circles, like us. I believe in

a body that is dying and a soul that is poetry. I believe in

tallying up my regrets, calculating the

net cost and knowing there is no

return receipt.

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