carcass in bloom. bone in water. prayer. prayer that doesn’t look like prayer. pointing at an ache-filled moon. pointing at an ache-filled body. moon, body. singing sight to an eye balanced on god’s finger. i don’t know what else to do. long into the night i write answers for hunger. long into the night i unfold the part of me that comes when called. that sees blood and gets real selfish. i know her. i know her so well. what do you do with knowing