Dearest,
I have been blessed,
so let me pray,
with eyes downcast and fingers
inter-twined.
Forgive me and
the watermarks I leave behind.

I can show you my bric-a-brac fears,
seeping into the hours, and the saline.

Or,

I could
cast away my floating,
faltering faith to
become an existentialist (one day);
and condemn myself instead.