.
O
Supplicant, sweet supplicant!
What
can one do for you?
What
do you want the universe
to
change? Will it come through?
.
A
yellow light is dawning now –
are
miracles aborning
at
last to offer what you crave?
No,
happens every morning,
.
you
say, as if the morning weren’t
anything
to care for.
The
sun goes up, the sun goes down –
that
isn’t what you’re there for.
.
Perhaps
this afternoon, let’s say,
At
four o’clock, at tea,
some
god will make a visit: show
you
all you want to see.
.
What
are you holding back, dear?
Are
you secretly in love
with
not receiving anything
from
any god above?
.
Perhaps
you’ve never not had
what
you want: and must concede
you’ve
long been what you burn to be:
a
paragon of Need.
.
.
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