Poetry

APOTHEOSIS

21 March 2016

I get home at 1:38am

with faded lipstick

and smoke

in my hair.

 

Peel off my freckles

and sigh.

I can’t find my crown,

Look for me

Pray for me.

I don’t know who I am

without it.

 

Tiptoeing on the altar, I ask

“Am I a prodigy?”

“Am I the girl-child of your God?”

“Am I a good dancer at least?”

 

If I don’t tell you everything

will you make it up?

 

I want to be a myth

Pray for me.

If I don’t go to your party can you

call me a recluse?

 

I want to be a legend

Pray for me.

Pray to me.


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