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Psalm for P.

By Cortney Lamar Charleston Poetry

Either I’m praying, or I’m holding my hand with my hand. I suppose both are small beggings for favor, simply directed at different thrones. Across the congregation, I’m known as your son even before God’s—and what a pregnant admission that is; your voice, among the choir, is exalted, anointed a favorite by pastor and flock.…

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