and if today, God called you away,
what would you give,
in exchange for your soul?

would you offer the hands
that have carried both joy and sorrow,
or the mouth
that still tastes of every whispered promise?

the river runs silent tonight,
thick with memory and sighs.
the moon leans low—
a pale coin waiting to be paid.

I think of you often,
head bowed over your ghosts,
still bartering with the dark
for just one more night,
one more beautiful sin.

and if today, God took me away,
what would I give,
to keep even a shadow of your soul with me?

would I trade the nights
I spent listening to your breath,
or the hours
my lungs ached for your voice?

the river swells heavy tonight,
dark with memory and longing.
the moon hangs low—
a pale witness to all I cannot hold.

𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤

barter