Prayer for the Boy

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I’ve never heard

fingerprints

left on our bodies

sing out like how

          moonlight glows

until now

          until all these

stains on glass

touched   crazed

sprayed of

          warmed blood

we’re not blinded

          not sewn down

by grandpa’s cataracts

we’re not dead

are we?

so maybe we are

& instead   like shadow

you’re alive.