Devotion

              Instead, the year begins
with my knees
              scraping hardwood,
another man leaving
              into my throat. Fresh snow
crackling on the window,
              each flake a letter
from an alphabet
              I’ve shut out for good.
Because the difference
              between prayer & mercy
is how you move
              the tongue. I press mine
to the navel’s familiar
              whorl, molasses threads
descending toward
              devotion. & there’s nothing
more holy than holding
              a man’s heartbeat between
your teeth, sharpened
              with too much
air. This mouth the last
              entry into January, silenced
with fresh snow crackling
              on the window.
& so what––if my feathers
              are burning. I 
never asked for flight.
              Only to feel
this fully, this
              entire, the way snow
touches bare skin––& is,
              suddenly, snow
no longer.

Copyright Credit: Ocean Vuong, "Devotion" from Night Sky with Exit Wounds. Copyright © 2016 by Ocean Vuong. Reprinted by permission of Copper Canyon Press, www.coppercanyonpress.org.