Tuesday Poem by Soonest Nathaniel

Bad sex
is sex
nonetheless,
and if you let your thought
wonder off into the empty night,
it might still better the best you ever had.

I have been bad at this art,
finishing where I ought to start,
like some failed poet,
I write best of what I know nothing about.
But in the end,
my lover
whispers an amen to my short prayer,
she said she learnt a trick from an old friend.

There is something missing
which I find in her eyes,
she says I perform miracles
she says I can walk on air.
Her friends giggle
when I walk passed them,
something familiar glows in their eyes;
I wonder if they need prayers too.
I shy away from praying too often,
don’t want God to get bored.

My lover says
there is a night vigil coming,
she has asked
if she could invite her friends.

________

Soonest Nathaniel is an elegant poet.