When I was seventeen I had insomnia.
I would sneak out around midnight
and wander up towards the man-made lake.
The reflection of the moon in the water looked
like God’s great eye, winking at me in the ripples
as if there was some joke He thought I was in on.

After a while, I would leave God at the lake
and wander once more, towards the
Mormon temple—My mom was a night custodian there.
Rebellious teenager that I was, I would
sit quietly outside and wait,
wanting to make sure she made it home safe.