i heave the morning on my shoulders.
let God bear the weight of my nights.
my ma says it is sin to make God
my errand boy. a prayer is no prayer
if it makes God do my bidding.
there is a place for such prayers on
heaven’s road. they pile into a bonfire
that illuminates the way for well-made petitions.
rebellion, i say, will light the way to redemption.
the morning is God’s making;
the night my unmaking of his making.
if i tend to his creation,
let God tend to my desecration.
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