she floats
in
a stagnant river
of gasoline
the holy hour
trains less frequent
breaths rarer
eyes wider
there’s no cross
on my wall
only a nail
waiting
for a purpose
keeps the feet moving
don’t wonder what it is
lest you make waves
take care
don’t be afraid
look up sometimes
nothing matters
she sleeps
soundly
in a stagnant river
of gasoline