I pray you get
whatever answer
you’ve been hoping for
says the cashier, sliding
the home pregnancy test
into my bag, next to the mayo.
One item in my plastic sack
now ascendant in blessings,
I blush, hurry a thank-you,
and in the car, wonder
if holiness is self-contained.
Or if it saturates what’s close.
Marissa Rose’s work has previously appeared in print or online with Breadcrumb Scabs, The Lyric, and Word Riot, among others. Find her somewhat reticent blog at marissacoonrose.com, or on Twitter at @mcrose1186.