baptism

I was told to have faith. . .

But I find I have none.

While they, in their childlike splendor,

Went like lambs to the pool

The virgin waters piercing those 

Mortal coils

Insurance for their resurrection,

I went, too, yearning for

An innocent stupor,

The bliss of not-thinking.

But I tainted the water

Which to me was only that,

Hoping that someone

—One of them—

Someone I could touch

Would save me

Should I begin to flail

And drown.

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