sunshine

Provide me with the sunshine sir

but don’t let it burn

 

a blossom grows

its vines wrapped

 internal for eternal

 

 let us sleep in sand

the spread of us

closer to God

 

a name will become

and a field behold

 

these fingers blend my darkness

belonging to hands I cannot see

and as all these make a pretty count

 

out of laceration

the purge of ills

is only three steps behind me