Lovers, in Glass

A Sonnet

Photo by Scott Rodgerson on Unsplash

after Ani DiFranco

I keep you like a prayer in tired lungs,
the memory of a kiss I would forget
if I was not a jury, standing hung
without even a shiver of regret
for every prayer we wrapped in cellophane
like saints above were canning all our lies
with pickled bullshit. Sure, we were in pain
but why pollute the tender, empty skies
with clouds and hurricanes? And so we hold
ourselves together…