On Sunday
the sun rises like backwards candle-wax
children are reborn into pews
the salt in the air run thin these days
makes its easier to taste a smile on your own lips
my grandmother has slept in her ash, ocean side every day for the last 10 years except on sundays
where i find her awake between gods pages
there is a reason why even after saturday nights i wake up at 8 to visit a jesus i believe in
because i believe in his father
and i believe his father loves my grandmother and i believe in dreams
the kind that put us to sleep when we need them to
and make sure we dont sleep in past following them
i believe in your breathe
and that god sits in that space between your heart and your chest
i believe in miracles that arent prayed for
like surprise visits from old friends
when you need them
i believe in sundays
and that even though m-s could have been the worst week of my life
sunday will still shine
sunshine will still rise
sunday will still pick me up from my back and smile
and i, will greet her every single time
with grace
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