oil 

i put the sun in my mouth
& drive in the dark. one summer we slept
in the yard & took turns eating stars.
they left grease stains on our lips & thighs
where we'd wiped our hands. 
i parked the car in the wendies lot
& used their wifi to pull veils from 
the faces of gods. when i was
an altar boy, i got to light the candles.
the big ones were oil fed. their flames
came easy. thrashed beneath the breath
of the priest. i struggled to put them out.
wanted an eternal light to carry until
the land was blanketed in salt.
i imagined carrying one of the candles home. 
sitting it in my room. a mass held
for only me & the wall bugs. when we emptied out
my aunt's house we found so many rosaries.
i wonder if she ever held her hands
over a host & blessed it. i don't trust priests
but i do like their uniforms. when i was
going through a wicca phase i thought
of buying a robe. try on being my own
kind of holy. i have since torn apart 
any ideas of holiness. who the fuck cares
if i'm holy? i am something better than holy. 
not the flame but the oil in the guts of 
a tower. i am infinite. my grease, the grease
of the world. the fire, only dancing because
so am i. in the parking lot i lit
a birthday candle & held it until the limb
was gone. no oil. no light besides the 
ugly street lamps. these days i let myself
have as much burning as i need. i do not need
headlights. that is how much i glow.