the fast

There's prayer
in the apple
the orange juice
and the broccoli,
the spinach and the
water.

Daniel refused the
King's wine and meat,
and so can I.

When I am with God
things change. My
belly calls, and
only He can answer.

Tears wash my face,
and there is no milk
in the mixture.
I don't need it.

There are never any pieces
of me left when I end
up down there,
knees digging in.

I am calm, until I
climb out
longing for the noise
of men.

Their sounds snake around me,
and my knee holes fill up
with thoughts.

I can't keep them.
They aren't mine.

Listening to Him is hard,
and I get distracted
by the pretty faces,
so prominent,
but not available.

He's sweetly whispering,
constantly,
and I can only ignore for
so long

only sleep for
so many hours
until my empty belly
wakes me

and I can only fill it
when I'm
on my knees.