I didn't realize how much that broken man was affecting me
I once tried to put him back together again
But his eye was on his belly and I became his gaze and his hunger
Was a blank stare; Rage gave way prayer
But what is prayer
What is power
Push another button
Stare me in the heart
i/s what
I once prayed to my father for a father father father father do you hear me
now
you're vulnerable, too
He would talk about how it felt to hold a cushion of sound in his fist and when he'd let it go his hand disappeared and here I am
He is not that broken, man,
that broken moan, stammering into I am that I am—I can handle the poem in his eyes, afterall
I didn't realize how much of an idea I am, all my own
