Prayer for a Second Marriage
by Catie Nielson
So, God, she’s five foot seven
She loves teeth
I was alone, but
sometimes I was the sea
My son cries freshwater tears
I tell him to finish his french toast
while I go on chopping onions
knife aquarium in the sink
I sit in the chair across from myself,
a mole tunneling my heart,
gaze at a corner cobweb
and call it prayer
This woman sucking honey sticks
exhaling ruddy light
my son makes faces at her back
and her spaghetti bolognese
A framed oceanscape hangs
over the frowning toilet seat
the swordfish whispers:
“I get my light from God”
And God, as I remember
it was you, on my birthday
I had aged for years, but that day
I had persimmons in my eyes
About the Author
Catie Nielson is a graduate student studying psychology and emotion. She has received awards for her research writing and short stories, and her poetry has previously appeared in Literature and Belief.