If this is still a prayer,
I can't tell.
Whenever we do things together, the coded gestures (kneeling, so many names
override their own desperation
I didn't say
we have the same god in mind (we don't/ I'm mine )
I didn't say
this would be the last time I'm addicted to last time and time doesn't exist anyways did you see how late I was at the beginning and learn that way for whom the homeland is not a place of
inevitable return
I didn't say
A strong and sustained occupation, A strong and sustained resistance to that occupation
I didn't say
this pussy is for married men, who'd rather betray their lie than themselves (their narrow windows of clarity and elsewhere
I didn't say
help me to be a woman who cares about their tired paramours — we call it the great work / how you like me/ better/ now/ help me to be the
doubtlessly, I would leave you on a dirt road close to the river, with your suitcase full of guns and t-shirts, a couple spiral notebooks full of— if this is still a prayer
I can't tell
Unspeakable delights tempt maddeningly from the far shore
And Robert Johnson is more important than
all the dead commercials half-launched in your subconscious crown chakra conman common man hero in a banned love with abandonment (get in line, nigga, we soldiers, the responsibility chants, droll and infinite ly leaving the body but not the soul
We don't even have the same devil in mind but the song floats up like a double ghost and finds you in its lines
