in my coffee, i’ll
tell you, i know there
is god, in the moan
of a lover, fingers dug
desperate against
my shaking back,
oh god, there you
are, stay right here
there is god in the
way we can feel the
temperature change,
the fall of our walls,
letting loose the idea
that we are hard
to love, god in
the way that i saw you
and saw it was good
god in the cigarette
passed between friends
on the long, hardest
nights, god in the
stories that follow our
scarring, and in
music, that song, that
melody rescuing the
room, my god, we
sing along from our bellies
and, god, i swear
you are there in the
stammered damn speeches,
the hardest i ams, the
rainbow of your own
creation, god in the
pressing of lips against
forehead, i am here,
body breaking for you.
michael king 