gauze

says to me says jesus rides again like

we both believe there are lions in the holy land,
like we both assume that all
children will grow up

september, you see and, the hazy light of

10:00 a.m. the screams of birds
and i have given up on prayer have stopped
memorizing the names of saints

wish only that the days were warmer

that i had answers for all of the

obvious questions gathering like dust in the
corners of my living room

and so i believe in the roots of trees in

fingers crawling through the dirt to wrap
around forgotten bones and so i come to you
with a handful of heartfelt lies

i turn away from my mother from my sister

in shame and in blindness

the doors of their houses

stand open against the cold

the mornings here are

nothing like the mornings of my childhood

being afraid of every last

fucking thing should be enough