SO I LET MYSELF CRY

at the videos of people singing in unison from their balconies
in full belief that only music can stop this war and I let myself
mourn the images of ransacked grocery store aisles, someone’s
mother weeping because there’s nothing left but new language
called fear of the unknown and because we can’t clutch hands,
not yet, which is all I need when I wake and the world feels more
like a burning corpse and less like the one we remember and so
I let my heart break just like that— like the seams of the earth
suddenly ripped wide open, every great triumph and tribulation
bleeding onto the vacant streets we once wandered when we were
still kids, still giggling vessels of hope, still innocent enough to trust
the safety of the stitching, that promise of freedom unthreatened.

I love you so I let myself cry over the lack of you. Over the memory
of the place we once shared, when it was still as good as the day God
breathed it real, the rolling hills and the fog and the infinity of touch,
feel, taste. Look around. It’s ours and nothing can change that, not now,

not yet, not ever.

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