March 25, 2023Teacher’s PrayerR.A. Villanueva

Blessed are you, maidens of the one hundred and eighty afternoons

You of the cough at the first inhale                 You of the cut

school for the seashore

You of the sequined nails, the powdered

eyes, the breeze of lilac and lavender

You of the still-open door

 

Blessed are you, child of the broken

heart, the half-healed ventricle

You, the chamber voice, the madrigal

lift, the harmony and hum                         You of the pink

You of the dark black ink

 

You of the grandmother’s abattoir

hidden among the exits of the New Jersey Turnpike

You backstroking Ophelias and #2 pencils

 

You of the boardwalk tattoo, of the snapping latex, of the pierced

tragus, of the soft cartilage                  You

of the essays in arabesques, the hearts above

the i’s, the diary left out on purpose, the origami messages,

the whispered consonants                        Pray for us

 

You who roll

your eyes in their painted sockets who

affix his last name to yours on your notebooks

Pray for us

 

You who can still pick and choose                     You

who manicure your faces full

of the spark and sweat of future days

Pray for us