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I can't look at a church without thinking of you
I.
I know I'm not a saint
because I am sitting in this revival service
while they give their goofy little testimonies
and all I can think is that
I would rather be holding your hand
and maybe even rather be kissing you
but I don't know how to kiss someone
II.
It is 73 degrees
according to the thermostat on the wall
and the clock has stopped ticking
at 2:50 and 23 seconds
it smells like mold and old ladys' perfume
but at least the minister isn't
yelling into the microphone again
III.
The flag of the Christian church is on the left
and the American flag is on the right
the cross lit up smack in the center
and all I can think is that
your hand felt like wildflowers in mine
and if you would let me hug you forever
I swear I would never let go
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