there’s no Heaven left in the hospital when you find it, just hurt;
just the bones of a stable for wilder girls than you,
just the little baptism between Death and modernity
where she sprinkles blood from above our heads
& tells us that we’re good enough;
she’ll give us a chance.
she saves the data from the rage you felt
when she didn’t dance with you at the party,
she takes that and pairs it with the medium-rare
stake of your heart that she grills on tomorrow’s sunset.
that combination hints at
infers that
alludes to
the worst and most honest thing about you.
your hair is turning wispy and grey—
your voice is cracking at the spine from the
weight of her wanting it.
her lungs grow branches long enough to clear the table
and ask you a question:
who is your God now?
Aliyah Knight (they/she) is a writer & filmmaker currently studying for a BFA in Screen Production at AFTRS. Their shorts ‘home bodies’ and ‘Goodbye Mr. Wilde’ are set to be released later this year, and their poetry will soon appear in Travesties?! and Powders Press. When she isn’t writing or onset, you can probably find her eating eggplant dumplings and rewatching Bridesmaids. She writes on aliyahs.substack.com and tweets at @a1iyahswrld.