Photo by Sandy Sussengut
Red Lands Full of Tourists
Eve Young
I have always
believed that
Jesus was not
for me–they
do not believe
in you, but they
do believe; and
more than before,
I began to believe
in myself. I recei-
ved all the praise
and the fatigue,
looked up, saw
Kingdom at the
top, swiped to
change the view,
cut, press and
locked. I stop
where I start. I
have sticky ques-
tions now, of
pure example, this
situation we call
the purest: by
our own weakness,
we call him a god
of a universe that
divides your life
and your beliefs,
red lands full of
tourists and lovers,
nightingales, dark
nights and new
lovers, firstborns
that confuse the
brothers. Let me
slide. Let me be
what you think
of later and for-
ever. I don’t believe
in Jesus but I bel-
ieve in you, even
when your mind
can only rest in
the dark and watch
it change.
Eve Young
I have always
believed that
Jesus was not
for me–they
do not believe
in you, but they
do believe; and
more than before,
I began to believe
in myself. I recei-
ved all the praise
and the fatigue,
looked up, saw
Kingdom at the
top, swiped to
change the view,
cut, press and
locked. I stop
where I start. I
have sticky ques-
tions now, of
pure example, this
situation we call
the purest: by
our own weakness,
we call him a god
of a universe that
divides your life
and your beliefs,
red lands full of
tourists and lovers,
nightingales, dark
nights and new
lovers, firstborns
that confuse the
brothers. Let me
slide. Let me be
what you think
of later and for-
ever. I don’t believe
in Jesus but I bel-
ieve in you, even
when your mind
can only rest in
the dark and watch
it change.