they only hear us when we praise them
when we reflect them back
and become only the mirror
when we don't exist
inside our own names
when we become a cloud and weep for them
they will assume
it is their own grace talking back
and that we have nothing to do with it
and when our tears make rainbows
they are nonchalant
and brush us away, mere flies
cactus flower, we were
so prickly they said
almost like the undead
but we were living too.
and God alone knew it.
mary angela douglas 28 july 2023
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