Morning Routine

Breakfast: spreading butter on a loaf of bread-

And I remember your sameness on my bed.

Naked afront news forecast of storms,

A burning Bush between your legs where God speaks from.

And I kissed the flame like Judas's betreyal on dread-drenched lips fresh from the agony in the Garden of Gethsemane

In Sorrowful Mystery.

Funny: you remind me of why

they named such temporal disasters

after people.

I sip a cup of  coffee to burn

my tongue-

with a newspaper to burn

my eyes

from bad news:

And I'm reminded of you.