The Deep
The Deep by debgrant
Tender,
What if I wrote my prayers to you?
It is a ridiculous idea.
I barely speak or think prayers to you these days.
I witness displays of power
in the deeds of puny men
and a few women.
I witness hordes speaking for you.
Little old testament gods
sanctimonious
full of their own gaseous spirit,
rotting rhetoric, farting out a facial vent,
while the fearful compliment
the aroma of cruelty.
So you see, Tender,
I don’t want to speak for you
and not even to you
but with you. What would that smell like?
That involves more than I can muster with a pen
even on lovely cotton paper and a custom batch of ink.
As always, it is the beginning
and the beginning again
that feels like falling face-first into the deep.
###