Touching Prayer While Discovering the Thorns That lies Concede


Flesh through the blinds is sunlight gleaming on dust.
But what vast touch can maim?

For instance
How does God explain existence to immortals?

I tried to speak to an enduring Gabriel.
But as I knelt for prayer and pleated fingers together
A pain touched fingertips;
Trickled onward towards my clavicle.
And in that agony
I was touch. A sense blinded by its obedience.
I questioned, “why Gabriel do you serve my existence
To this obedience?”
I was met with silence.

But isn’t it best to think of politicians
As humans
And not Gods?

Putting to rest conspirators’ woe-
I decree,
We all sleep in sunlight
Somewhere. Even immortals
Need time to comprehend
The perfection of flesh burning
While attaining vitamin D.

Happiness in Hell
Relies on accepting masochism
As a favor.

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