Hold your breath
God is nearby—
a tower in the Sky
with no rooftops to reach
He made you for He’s
A Sculptor.
Contours and lines,
fullness and voids,
He pierced the stone
one beat—one by one
A touch; irreplicable
If at times, in between sobs
land a hand
familiar to my pores
so seldom nudged,
let me believe that I exist;
At the sound of your touch
my Soul returns
to your makings and your presence
like a shadow—
just as it is