note: this is an in-progress section of a longer piece. enjoy

Have you heard of this six sentence poem?
"I am trying in every regard."

I live in an empty house on a hill with only an attic,
I have lived in a tired body un-thrilled with only an attic, I'll show you:
a northern star unzips my home, and everyone can see everything.

Most mornings are fine and I move with the sun and nothing was wrong. 
I am 6, 7, 8, 27, a hundred and one. We all dream of flying, God, do you think 
I wish I knew where I was going to? Or where I’m coming from? 
I wish I could fly.

The stars like to whisper to me.

They say things like how was school?

And I say I don’t know, will I ever be free? and they just twinkle, so I go on, and say what’s wrong with my voice? Why is there glue on my tongue? Why am I so ungrateful? Where are my wings?

Dear God,

Do I have to?

Do I want to?

For show and tell I bring my snow globe home with an ice rink foyer and 
a small warm orange fire that glitters and sings and tucks me in tight and 
you know what? Forget everything I’ve said, the living room is so bright, 
so bright at this time of night. 

Now when I pray, it is different.