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.
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