Unsaid prayers

I wish my blue were that of a sunny blue sky, not these heavy hues that make a soul feel like Methuselah.

I hope for God's voice on the wings of the breeze as it strolls by, I hope for his embrace to hold me as i come undone.

I pray for my soul to be wiped clean, let my sins be unwritten and carry their weight with them. I hope and pray for selective amnesia, may my weak moments be her only casualty.

I pray my prayers have an audience and do not roam the hallways of heaven ignored, I pray for slow rhythm and blues melodies borne in heaven to allay my troubled soul and green all that is grey and dying.

I pray she would read my heart like a book,place it on her lap, flip through leisurely only to flip back again and smile. I wish i could wear her smile for the day and let it thaw my heart, hold her hand and stroll on sanguine as we gaze on gardens of orange sunset whiffs. Inhale a bit of yellow and be buoyant for a life time.

(These pages are an extension of my being: mimic broken aortas, the pages play band aids soak up my heart. So the next time you come across one of these pages please be delicate with my heart.)

nashe chokureva.