prayer to the god of infinite creative possibilities (poem)
Oh please let me touch
Every inch of this day
I’m halfway through inking a sketch
dreaming of speaking fluent French
The future vibrates with
all the poems I’ll never write
and all the instruments I’ll never play
I must break my curiosity
into pieces small enough
for my hands
Let me hold something
in my palm
and not the ghostly weight
of what’s left undone