Sunday Morning Glories

bring me Sunday morning glories
hymnal books of cracking leather
softer black and golden

you knew me, yes
my raven love
you broke me in
now I have found my wings

it’s not much,
it’s not much

here, hold my Sunday flowers
while I step aside with her
there are things to say, to say

I have thumbed through dirt floors
trading fingerprints for puzzle pieces
misplaced years ago
all in vain

here, take what’s left
I’m left here robbed of mislaid parts
forgotten where I left them

I’m not much,
I’m not much

stick myself to you with Sunday school glue
you give me all the answers
Jesus, God, and Bible verses

mister preacher, may I be excused
I must linger in the back with blushing lips
may I press my lips on hers
and blush

she’s too much,
she’s too much

now let us pray
you caught me there, sweet thing
I saw your eyelids snap

this was all a dream, I fear
here, take these folded paper hearts
I wrote my name inside them here and there
it’s short, but pretty

pretty dresses, bows in back
crossing fingers behind pews and telling secrets
share this song with me

so much is missing,
so much is missing