“i don’t trust people unfamiliar
with love.” ~ Jose Olivarez
Fierce eyelash of moon
shining out of the trees,
their branches made silvery
and arterial in the dark;
somewhere a synagogue
of hearts trembling from
the sounds of gunfire.
Every day we hold each other
and it feels like we couldn’t
possibly have any more tears.
But every day, new names enter
the rolls of the dead. Grief
is remade daily; we’re not
even given time to gather
our sorrows for their proper
ritual. Meanwhile, beasts
prowl in the rain. They don’t
bother with umbrellas or
with anything that has ribs.
Meanwhile, we don’t sleep.
We sharpen in moonlight.