I lay on the bed, her to my side, in her underwear and tank top, hair hanging loose and ragged from the day, a bible open in her hands.
She reads to me from Revelation, of all the damnations we brought upon ourselves.
Dire prophecies are bring their judgement from human evil. Brought to pass by unheeded warnings. Human don’t listen or change.
The Red Dragon knows his marks exceptionally well.
The stars whipped down from the sky. The water turned to wormwood. The death we beg for that will not come.
Even in hearing those terrors, there is intimacy in being read too.
Her voice is that of angel showing the way. Maybe a handful of us will take heed and change. Even leave manna for the tribulation saints.
I lose myself in her voice and the words of what is to come. I lose myself in her.