How She Prays

Orange skies and Lemoncello. So clings the last vestige of day. She's supine, captured in yellow. Cherry red lips parted. Cloudless, open are the heavens, Ear cocked to hear her prayer. She's wordless, emptied even, Her contrition halted. Tell her heaven hears her speaking, No matter how quiet the sound. Catch her before she's weeping. … Continue reading How She Prays