This must be some little dream.
A way to get pushed up against a locker.
I can feel the handle imprinting itself
into my back. I cut my wayward curl
so they wouldn’t catch it reaching towards
the wooden Jesus in the hallway. He shines
like I want my teeth to shine. he whispered:
if you pray hard enough, your heart will grow
and crack your ribs right open. I believed him
until now.
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