Touching Prayer While Discovering the Thorns That lies Concede

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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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