Bowing a head into your palms,
Am I allowed to even speak your name?
Winter boy
Porcelain heart
My head is still in your hands—
Not controlled, not clouded
Seared in, burned like an old branding
Garnet red on your porcelain saucer
Winter boy, do I dare?
Say your name in the hushed blanket of night,
do I dare?
I pray for you, yes
I pray
On my knees, digging and prying my very own nails until garnet cries, staining my place of worship
Opening, peeling off a fresh set of prayers
Like flowers and petals
Plucking off a wish, one after the other
Pressing a hope,
filling a worry
I pray for a fall rain
I pray between waxy candles, lowering a head down, kissing the flame
I think of the winter to come
Clutching a hand to a rosary,
I don’t dare lift my head
God will watch me through the hole you left