Mangled like to spin the chickens, / liked how they danced headless / in the dirt, unable to cluck, flapping / their wings in the tin shack

the last time, you hid from them / the coughing, the shortness of breath. / you took the pain to a desert place,

Dawn. I begin each / day with masturbation and prayer, but not in that order    I do not desire to be intentionally / forgiven  That is what my boyfriend does