The choir concludes the service
We are eyes closed, air drawn to hands raised.
They sing because they happy
back in church
With bodies
always with bodies
Someone is screaming, tongue defying hymn
And yes, how far away we are
I miss him too.
His voice always singing familiar
haunts trumpet blaring
Sunday mornings.
Dark eyes and skin, wide smile, no teeth.
Fearless at 5 singing gospels with no concept of holding tight to strength in the lyrics. My ancestors and their ancestors. Am I listening?
I lose myself in years. I am not
Singing anymore. These chords have twisted themselves into the back of songs, I am
Writing, not singing or speaking.
Cottonmouth. I am sitting staunch against pews, leaning into worn piano keys. Foundation stains, and eyes watching, chestnut brown like mine. G in the key that breaks into silence. I hear a hymn being hummed, bacon cooked and waiting.
Memory tells me it is time to open my mouth
I sing 'cause I’m free.
Jun 6, 2019
Jun 6, 2019 at 9:49 PM UTC
The choir concludes the service
We are eyes closed, air drawn to hands raised.
They sing because they happy
back in church
With bodies
always with bodies
Someone is screaming, tongue defying hymn
And yes, how far away we are
I miss him too.
His voice always singing familiar
haunts trumpet blaring
Sunday mornings.
Dark eyes and skin, wide smile, no teeth.
Fearless at 5 singing gospels with no concept of holding tight to strength in the lyrics. My ancestors and their ancestors. Am I listening?
I lose myself in years. I am not
Singing anymore. These chords have twisted themselves into the back of songs, I am
Writing, not singing or speaking.
Cottonmouth. I am sitting staunch against pews, leaning into worn piano keys. Foundation stains, and eyes watching, chestnut brown like mine. G in the key that breaks into silence. I hear a hymn being hummed, bacon cooked and waiting.
Memory tells me it is time to open my mouth
I sing 'cause I’m free.