Grace

Younger, she
the poet wrote of
unraveling
all things good
holy, true, and right. Before.
Before. Before she knew
what it meant
to beg--
force you to lift
dead weight,
untangle her limbs from your floor
and hold your lungs
against hers, in and out
pleading breaths to slow.

The godless, even I,
know prayer in crisis.
In the suffering, out compassion
lungs filling with
all things good
holy, true, and right.