María De . . .

OQ

​

I used to pray every night.

                                                                        She used to pray every night.

Hail Mary, full of grace

                                                                        Her little brown fingers cradling the white pages of god.

Were the beginning words

                                                                       So much power in little hands.

Of my song to faith.

                                                                       So much white faith in blue veins.

Drowsy words

                                                                       As she was falling asleep,      

Spilling against hot teeth like god     

                                                                      She was waking up,

against Hell’s bars.

                                                                      Her words a tugging string that led far away.

I never prayed with my head down

                                                                      She never prayed with her head down

I wish I had

                                                                      I wish she had

Holy Mary, Mother of God

                                                                     Holy Mary, Mother of God

Bring me back to her

                                                                     Bring her back to me