Someday all that’s left of me will be excerpted stanzas, like this July 6
My prayers are empty
but I want overflowing vessels,
I want a wide sea.
Sometimes when I brush my teeth, I think of what must
be happening in Iraq and stare, vacantly,
then spit. I want a new beginning, I want a mango.
That’s it.
{found tonight, several years later}