my people
my beings
they are my daily God

so my God wears fur, sharp ears and comes in my arms
leaving me there, for a moment
so much love, a flea, and a few hair

my God is the dog
his cold nose on my hand,
a big, black and white God,
a mioritic shepherd God

my God is my people
the blonde-haired girl living at the other end of the world
the girl with green cat almond eyes,
we use to talk like people, about loves, wings,
and other uncertainties,
generally speaking to any God

my God is the others
I pass by them every day
she is that saleswoman around the corner
he is that young man passing by with an electric scooter carrying a backpack
the others, the invisibles, the invincibles
my pandemic people,
people with well-fitting masks on their faces
I can't see their faces,
never seen their faces
I know they're there to support the world

my God is the most beloved of the earthlings
God of my questions
God of your silences

my God is my word to you
feed me like a stranger
if I ever forget