Diners are for Prayers

Pious tears cover my pupils full,
their drops stolen from drinking
fountains and Walmart water
bottles covered in Carolina snows.
Scales covered my body to keep
me safe and warm, a pedent dangling
from a boat.  The prow piercing the
tank of water, each knot forward
ties another rope on my hand and
dabs a droplet of rosy wine on my eyes,
callus hands from rosemary wood’s
burn, as a beggar for grass greener
and for another prow to call home.

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