marks right sometimes

i want poetry to stop being honest
and start being a little beautiful
i need it to be
like my memory of women
forgetting love handles and bad manners
and remembering

perfect 6 am light
falling heavy and holy
on the parabolic curves
of a naked torso

i need it to be
like children
angelic when it cries

i need it to hold
every strong emotion and scent
with force
as sunrise
and prayer