we tip toe around tongues,
frightened at how sharp the mouth lies,
what misunderstandings lay chiselled,
gold not there to fix broken trinket throat,
instead veins form maps under skin,
pumping kisses and pauses,
heart attack lays stuck in artery,
when will the day be, when I too lose breath?
how much more art will be created out this grief?
leafs forming imprints over my carcass,
i’ll become pretty like ama,
what day or breath or second?
what pause or anger will it lie on?
to die in uncertainty.
rosary, bead by bead,
keeps the ill alive,
power of prayer,
am I ungrateful?