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The morning is like a lover,
Undresses us
Hurriedly
We stand before mirrors
Methodically ordinary
We want to become
The things the sky promised
Want to prove ourselves
To the reckless Gods of
Wednesday.
I love your hair,
Darker now
And longer too
But a kiss is never
More than is missing
And you’ve come to rely
On abstinence
To buoy you.
I’m thinking, you know
I might have
The red meat of
Salvation in me
Won’t go no more
Rendering unto
Any old body
Might pause,
Might make small
Circular devotions,
Like washing windows.
Would you want me then?
If I was more clean
Less Godly,
The stitches of self-imposed
Holiness
Unpicked
Replaced by something
More faithful
Less moral?
Or if I believed
In any rest
Other than eternal?
Would you want me then?
If the action of
Going to me knees
Had less to do with praying
More to do with
God?
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The human race, the only race I know where everybody loses.
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Inhale
