deepundergroundpoetry.com

Waterproof

I was baptized.
It didn't work.

Whatever they poured
over my innocent head,
I must have slept through.
That water moved right over me -
it met my skin,
came off in beads;
it met my skin
at infancy
and infancy declined.

The water didn't stain my sleep.
It must have been a pleasant dream -
so nice, the dress they put on me;
it must have missed my mind.

A quiet breath in water wades;
the substance in my skin will race
and rub the walls of every vein -
addict me to the truth -

for even as a little babe,
the guise of god left not a trace;
they blessed me, but it missed my face -
I'm holy waterproof.


~

Age when written: 16
Written by rowantree
Published
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