question my heart
and be pleased
I am broken, torn,
and whole
give me edges
I want fire, and
a knife
to cut the day wide
and take
a more than mine
I’ll never pray
for grace
no overhead
ballet arm in fluid fall
to lovely aside.
let me be terrified
I will know awe
and when sleeping
dream, I’ll walk
the edge
of is and seem
and waking, be
further torn,
by living more