Psalm 150

Some folks fool themselves into believing, But I know what I know once, at the height Of hopeless touching, my man and I hold Our breaths, certain we can stop time or maybe Eliminate it from our lives, which are shorter Since we learned to make love for each other Rather than doing it to each other. As for praise And worship, I prefer the latter. Only memory Makes us kneel, silent and still. Hear me? Thunder scares. Lightning lets us see. Then, Heads covered, we wait for rain. Dear Lord, Let me watch for his arrival and hang my head And shake it like a man who's lost and lived. Something keeps trying, but I'm not killed yet.