Enlighten my load.
Let it transcend the need for my back and my legs.
Mercy, I beg;
splash nectarines on the teeth of the famine in my belly -
hand swords of gold to the armies of my shoulders -
swaddle my feet from the frost -
pay the cost of the freight of my dreams.
See them through -
when I am too weak to open an eye,
and too beaten to swing
these fists unfit for prayer.