Thursday, April 26, 2018

Asifa 2


I could be asleep
but I keep hearing her
hollow with hunger
elegiac from pain

there is the smiling face
there is the stilled corpse
in the same (only?) dress
her silence is my voice

with all its broken bones
the secret, broken seams
dreaming of home, return-
ing to an unbroken body

She knows more than I do
and yet like any child asks
why why why why
why why why why

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what we are built for

in the days when the kids were smaller and my parents younger and they lived here  six months of the year                                   ...