amy was never religious.

she never scraped her knees begging for forgiveness, never dressed in white and drowned in salvation.

now, lightyears away from stained glass windows and priests and church choirs, she kneels on the floor of her room, and prays.

she begs and pleads, waiting for some holy deity to carry her home.

but she's seen the fear ignited by her pale skin, seen a boy seduced and trapped in space.

and she knows, there is no god here in the stars.


instead, she finds forgiveness in his hands.

slipping up her spine, warm lips clumsy against hers. there is no merging of skin, only stark contrast. white against black, red against brown.

maybe, she'll forget a little more with their clothes on the ground.

he is controlled innocence, fumbling and bumping, little whimpers and sounds let out against the curve of her neck.

for once, since she woke up in ice, she is in control. moving his hands lower, lover, tilting her head and training his lips to know where to go, where to bite and where to leave marks, for only them to see.

she strips him of all modesty, and his skin is breaking with fever, sweating and shaking.

consumed by her fire.


forgive us for we have sinned.

she runs her fingers along her parents tanks, not stopping even when her fingertips turn blue, not even when her hands tremble and shake from cold.

forgive me, forgive me, forgive me-

she leans her forehead against the fogged glass and whispers the horrors she sees, of death and dominance, dictators and drugs.

but mostly, she tells them of a boy named elder.

"he took me away from you." turns into "he needed me."

maybe, her parents are better frozen in sleep for a little while longer.


they're the adam and eve of a new time, of a new place.

her hair is his apple, what seduced him away.

they're the adam and eve of a new time, and this time begs for a fight. a false god will not kick them out and and beat them down, they will take back the garden, and right all of his wrongs.

when elder falls asleep with his head tucked under her chin, she whispers stories of romeo and juliet, tarzan and jane, samson and delilah.

and on new earth there will be statues, cities in their name, and years from now parents will kiss their babies on the forehead and name them amy, for their bravery, and elder, for their leadership.

they will not be lost in stars,

god may have forgotten them out here, but the new adam and eve don't need a god to guide them home.