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I asked my friends
to pray with me
for my heart,
because I love you.
My helplessness
needs as much help
as it can find,
the comfort of a
webbed network
of lights to cushion
my fall, and lift me
up daintily, daily
in case God granted
me an audience.

Love is supposed to be
between two people
and God, but prayer
is liquid.
It compresses and
freezes and flows and
spreads its malleable
electricity inside
cracks where
one lover’s faith
can only take her
so far, and makes her
soul rock-solid. Strong
enough to lean on.
Enough as foothold
for a steady climb
towards eternity.

They saw tears in my
eyes when I asked them.
They heard the washing
tide in my voice, ready
to sweep me away.
I made them pretty
pearls out of the salt
to serve as reminder.
They promised to pray.
And now every
evening I love you
I imagine the satin sky
bathed in the wisps of
curling smoke from
candles lit by all the
prayers rising, binding
you to me, the greatest
gift in all the world.

* * *

You asked me how
I do what I do,
and I said,
“With no fear,
and a love that is
always enough.”
.

bokehfence
.
“Fenced Friday in the City” by photographer Leandro Pérez
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