A Lesson On Long Nights and Prayers

This is the night my prayers are in their most fervent ---


do not leave me, not for a faint breath, not for a feeble roll of tear,

not for a two hour onslaught of storm,



you know the soul knows no refuge,

rather your meek smile,

your uncompromised lines---


to laugh at, to cry for

to adorn.



Trouble me with scorn,

even fill me

with a deluge of sorrows--- i will never bend, so



do not leave me, not for a lifetime of forgetfulness,

not for a moment of regret

not for flicker of strangeness,



and let this night be the last

when prayers are in their most fervent.



*a poem written in an attempt to emulate Neruda amidst stubborn mosquitoes in a drenched, midnight blackout.and yes, using the limited space provided by my cellphone. enjoy.