prayer, from a woman to a whale
Now it’s for your songs I long
and if you can hear my pleas
and my dissonant currents
have not deafened you, too
hear my prayers
that our waters and airs
subject to gravity, grasp us
and that everything that’s mine
to change turns into listening
and may tides guide us
and music make over
everything we swallow
and suck up.
Like what I really saw long ago
through binoculars on a ship
with fellow tourists
anxious to pay anything
not to feel true our dues.
Now it’s for your songs I long.
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