I don't prefer one hour over another,
They choose how to arrange themselves autonomously.

But
3am, My
Conscious
Body and mind have taken some offense,

Then again
Who better than me?
A white man
Who knows no hubris
No boundary
No
Shame
To try?

But then again
I cannot
Because
I cannot explain more than simply it is wrong

Exasperated I stare at the stars
Tears running to the back of my head
Covering themselves out of shame
Trying to apologize
For sins I cannot wash
Off hands
That are not mine
That are not sorry
That are buried

I turn to the ground
Digging
For two reasons

One
Finally remove,
As God decreed
That which causes me to sin
Is a finger removed when it is worn to the bone?
I'll tell you in a few

Two
To reach those graves
To **** those men personally

Welp,
who cares