I am hybrid. Some god’s strange recipe
‘too much’ of this
‘not enough’ of that.
Split hairs, melded prayer
of existence, longing
In-bread of communion
with cuppeth running over
Not at the mouth enough for some,
for sure
I bleed and Black and Brown and song and sage and shoreline and star sparkle
blur, blend
into the Oblivion
of Other
-ness
The One who escapes
and resides in the many