When Prayer Won’t Work

The green-skinned muse
Who sheds no skin
Turns up in dreams
To drink you in.

The hair is short;
The dress is sharp.
The eyes are kind.
There is no heart.

You need the help.
Your breath has choked.
You’re at the end
Of your short rope.

The green-skinned muse
Bends down and smiles.
It’s like a kiss.
You breathe a while.