for Edward “Juju” Sutton 2010-2014
you the picture of what grandma calls
that well with my soul kind of faith, you fat
with foreign blood and so small, passed from
the body of a boy to the body of an old
woman, better half of your life elided in breath
with such ease of acceptance to slough
off one self for the next, to assimilate into the viscera
of another without pulling at the sutures
or baiting the blood to conflict. how to name
the difference between you, who are without breath,
and I, without naming it bitterness. it must be said—
I envy you, living with no God imposed on the disorder
and no sense of order or what was broken and no one
to curse in prayer, and nothing worth praying to.