my spirit knows the prayer
but my heart is still learning to
say it
fingers pressed against the bark
now different i know
grown over from where you
reclined against it
but i reach through the fence anyway
and my eyes gaze at the dawn on that city
filled with people
no more murders than me
did you touch my hand then?
did you whisper,
“listen to the love
i have buried in
each breath on
your cheek”
do my tears sting your skin
like the lips of Judas?
tell me,
where does it hurt when
my teeth break the bread?