I will pray as a nonbeliever
Submit to hands clapsed together
For fallen psalms so beautiful
Yet, such nothingness in me.
The words fall so purely from my mouth
Eloquent in measure
And I know I shall cling to its solace.
And on broken days you know me better
Possibly more than I know myself.
Call again, I'll pick up,
Bite my tongue
I'll ask, "How are you doing?"
You'll say, "Not well, not well without you my dear."