She loves Jesus and whisky.
I’ve gotten more out of the latter.
I’ve dabbled enough in both
To know the poison’s in the dose.
Juxtapositions build intrigue
Yet her dichotomy is watered-down.
Pious affirmations offer stale bread
And my restless soul remains unfed.
She loves Jesus and whiskey.
I prefer the Devil’s cut to the angel’s share.
One ushers in trust, the other, performance—
One liberates. The other commands conformance.
