I am upstairs where the air
tastes like water
Like the water we tainted
in the Bahamas before December
melted into the face
of a new year
You are downstairs where the water tastes of rain.
Despite all you have chanted, I know it burns your eyes.
Despite what you have told me, yes, I know otherwise.
Red eyes belong to beasts.
I have exhausted God with all my praying
Just yesterday He asked me (sweetly) to let Him be
And it turns out that my last prayer was for you
I still wonder if shoulda been for Me
Because as you are dancing
in the rain and
call it jest
I eye the door
in hopes you'll soon
join me upstairs
where the air
tastes like water.
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