Morning Prayer
Sun, find me behind these blinds, between
These construction towers of sugar and brick,
Find me among these bodies, these thin-armed plants,
Give me a decent chance to scream at the honking drivers to
fuck off, or at least a good shot at their yellow behinds as they
Skulk through crosswalks like teenagers when it's not their turn.
Tell me how once I was baptized your child by young and
naive parents in a high mountain stream,
Named in the good faith that I would stay close.
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