Scimitar

“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.

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