Midnight Ministry

These were the stairs
I sat on for hours
while we talked
my phone over my ear
towel over my shoulder
cold mountain wind
cutting my lips.

Alongside murmurs
my gaze played around
the dim flickering lights
over the hills of Ambiong.

Some flowers needed
longer days
thus the lights
but I

needed more of your darkness
near-silent nights
of secrets
your voice
a receptacle of sins

For we were yet to eat
from the tree
the fruit of knowledge
of good and evil
and our ignorance
the only gospel
worth preaching

And
He saw that it was good.
It was good.