There is no poet like a knife.
There is no rhyme like dance.
The first time I held your hand in mine
Was the only love poem I have given you.
Fists full of dirt
Beads of sweat on skin
I have understood God the most when it rains.
When elements collide and my face becomes water.
There is no profanity like absence.
There is no obscenity like callous.
The last time I shook my father's hand
Is the only praise I have known.