A Baptism

Between parallel high-
desert mirrors, in unending
yellow-green and gray-
brown, I nearly drowned in
a bowl of
my prayers.
I dressed them
up in petals and whispers,
and left them to swim
in the climbing sun.
I made myself
a tourniquet, opened
and closed. I sounded
sacred vowels
to wring out and make
room. Singing,
single file, I
sat. I wrapped
my legs around them,
lifted them up in cupped
hands, drank of them,
bathed, bare, in them, and
kissed them so deeply I
couldn’t hear
my lugs calling.