a coin for a candle for my namesake Saint.
The burning that will make light.
Is this it, the countdown, the path, the flicker
before eventuality? Think: so many
household names gone home—
who knew he was running out of time?
precious time, precarious time, the space between, early
to his own glory. Each thought a millisecond
of false infinity: the homework I didn’t do.
the words stuck in my mouth, filtered through
some good-girl shit they sell
in church. God, a waste. But one prayer, one second closer to heaven.