23

23 for one day. I have changed.

A Prayer

it is tuesday on an atheist's calendar,
alive with lines,
breathing words of
yesterday with not a thought of God
or prayer.

still, there is time for him to leave his
lonely chair
descend alone down iron stairs
and polish floors on knees inside some
sacred lair

where plain cracked wooden floors
become more
than just the deadened trees of old
histories of rings of weather harsh
and fair.

but instead he closes eyes and falls
asleep in ponder,
meditation, lost in silent wander
and not on humble knees or humble
hands, there--

his hands clasped, his heart gripping
mercurial
but universal dreams of humanity--he stares
into the void, and dreams a thought,
a prayer.

On Skin

fifteenth and a quarter of a second on skin
are halves and quarters and eighths and
rhythms of numbers to find
my hands alive, inside
connecting to nothing
but you for infinity
is fifteenth and
a quarter of
a second

on skin.

When in Rain

When in rain,
light tickles passing
shapes of black like shadows
i will follow,

tripping,

to find
relief

when in rain
we hide
from drops
of heaven

when in rain.