For name's sake
his name is Eden and
Father, when he touches me I feel found
He makes me feel maybe God is a writer
who leaves answers in braille;
the raised marks, the scars, the freckles on our skin.
The lines where Eden's clavicles meet, they
look like a crucifix.
Father, well I've never seen a light whiter
than I saw in a green pasture
at midnight with Eden
above me.