for the boy baptized in muddy water


you are the afterbirth of hurricanes
                born into disaster and debris,
                hot-blooded and resilient

because you don't know how to survive
                unless you're in the midst of a fight for it.

boy, you never turn the other cheek, because you met god's eyes               and he smiled amiably for a moment
          before turning away, you've faced the world as it doled out                            strife and war
           when there is so much else it could have offered you. 

and yet you're still here, kid, the veins in your lungs
       are as hot and tight as they have ever been, your screams as full, 
       righteous rancor as potent, your sinewy soul is battered, boy, 
       but you are just as alive for it. 

by Mirabella Miller