at the edge of a cliff

i.
a boy stands
at the edge

opens his hands,

to bless his body,

i find myself crumbling inside his prayer —i,
a petal dying in a festival of stampede

i stack each prayer up until they reach the sky
maybe god will consider the effort & gift us with answers

dear god, have you heard about the rapture of the deep?
a phenomenon in which a flower bleeds into a river

—an empty room is as heavy

as its emptiness

my girlfriend prays inside her heart &
the echoes come like undone ghost
of my body trying to pop 26 pills of antidepressants

i put you in this box with unfinished poems
& prayer requests

—a boy at the mouth of the cliff

lets his legs slip

angels, today, are on strike

Header photograph © Andrew Hall.