I've sometimes wondered if dreams were prayers

And God could watch them and know what we really wanted.
Not those laundry lists we give him when we’re on our knees
But buried desires we’d never admit to anyone, even God,
Because some of them are naughty things
Adulteries of the mind our ministers tell us we shouldn’t want
But our minds want because otherwise we wouldn’t dream them.
Maybe God already knows we want those things,
And isn’t angry because it’s all part of his plan.
Maybe the prayers we say on our knees should be more honest
Like those we say on our backs.