there's no need to explain
why your expectancy
smells like
laundered dishrags
and prison bars pending locks.
you'll feel vindicated
if i leak out,
but this raft
has been seventeen years now
survival
bordering success.
you're waiting for
the ten commandments
to catch up with my
racing spikes
but i ain't running to beat perfection.
i define holiness as
an attempt at finding my kneecaps.
God gave me diamonds
to bleed on,
just to show
how my life is made of prayer
and i know this:
he loves me
for my pulse
and hunger to fly.
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