Psalm 150

Some folks fool themselves into believing,

But I know what I know once, at the height

Of hopeless touching, my man and I hold

Our breaths, certain we can stop time or maybe

Eliminate it from our lives, which are shorter

Since we learned to make love for each other

Rather than doing it to each other. As for praise

And worship, I prefer the latter. Only memory

Makes us kneel, silent and still. Hear me?

Thunder scares. Lightning lets us see. Then,

Heads covered, we wait for rain. Dear Lord,

Let me watch for his arrival and hang my head

And shake it like a man who’s lost and lived.

Something keeps trying, but I’m not killed yet.