I pray that you will flower
in darkness,
planted in the grace
of your body.
Freedom is your nature,
joy your birthright,
healing the rhythm
of your heartbeat.
Every proton in your flesh
is the kiss of an ancient star,
Each electron a wave
on the ocean of compassion.
Whose compassion?
Don't ask.
Names don't count
in this moment between
waking and sleep.
Who sleeps?
Don't ask.
Feel only an exquisite tenderness
for those who insist you have
no right to be happy.
May the golden fingers
of your vagus nerve
hold you like an offering
of delicious fruit.
All night, be breathed.
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