Ten pieded, Señor

Ten piedad de nosotros

If I ever pray again, I might be able to pray in Spanish. The way the soft d curls into my tongue feels holy, penitent, and worshipful. The way an r flips feels private, a tiny genuflection against the roof of the mouth.

It reminds me of the one song that brought tears to my eyes in church when I was younger.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, Lord!

Sometimes it causes me to tremble
tremble
tremble…

Even now, I can’t sing those words without feeling. Is it in me? Is it possible for me to have faith?

Dios, estoy desapareciendo. Ten piedad.