I pray even when God doesn’t exist
as I tiptoe to the bathroom, as I dance
on a tight rope, the only God I knew
was unforgiving of my trespasses.
Even when I stare at God, my demon
Oh My Lord,through my half emptied bottle.
I pray even when the Word is forsaken
I pray when my existence doesn’t borrow
relies not on accidents…
I woke up, but I was already too late
gone she was from my spent desires.
To find your rhythm, find you no more
to find you… Wanting your kisses
like dreams, to whisper secrets in my sleepy ear
but found you when longing knows nothing about
sensibility, all it knows is my accordion love
listing each and every discovery of your light.
It saddens me that I didn’t extend a hand to you
when that elbowed reach would have embraced your love:
your offering to the world. I pretend to understand why
when nothing could have kept you safe from all that is out there.
All I have is these scattered moments searching for a reel of cinema
my mind recollects our last true adventure, where, where
you stole the dance floor with your moves, I watched you dance
and wanted you to teach me what came to you like lightening striking a tree.
Dedicated to Bacci, rest in peace.