Writing

It is in the quite when it happens
the reasoning of being
examining the probabilities,
the proportions for evidence of purpose

My body is a filter
nitrogen, oxygen, carbon dioxide
travel my airways, lungs
inhaling the sunrise, exhaling the night, the stars
the slivered moon

Is there more?

The surprise of Honeysuckle in February
says yes
the blue of blue skies at ten thousand feet
waves leaving a salt line on my thighs as I chase summer,
listening for laugh lines in every face I meet
says yes

The echo of a mother’s voice from her children’s lips
that’s more

My brother has a gun in his head
and it’s heavy
and it’s weird
the weight so void of comprehension
it devours
all light from his day

The barrel is pointed
everywhere, anywhere
he can’t find his place
he ricochets, he folds, he bends
upside down inside out
until he buckles
breaks

Hair trigger ticking
his motor cortex is damaged
stunted
white matter grey matter
gone stale gone rot
exploding
he takes away

I count every child that falls
like petals torn and tossed
the husbands, the wives
half empty
mothers and fathers,
walking shadows

I hold your hands
and tell you how you matter
and I try not to hate
try not to grab a gun
try not to take away

Khot-jebi, orphaned children of North Korea

They flit, the abandoned ones
from seed, to grain, to rice
little ghost birds
that sift the soil
hunched on stick spindle legs
pinched thin enough
to pick your teeth clean

they unwrap garbage
like birthday presents
nibble forgotten rotting bits
feed the parasites curled in their bellies
that keep them warm at night

dust weighs their hair
pales their paper skin
to a powdered death mask
for a dance that no one sees
with eyes wide open

they steal into China like third hands
dream of being human
knowing one bullet would be enough
but sometimes they shoot twice

here, here little birds
my palms extend in Hieroglyphics,
in dollar signs
miles, miles, miles away
how do you keep your face from breaking

In the hollow of the evening
when shadows relax
fold into themselves
sounds go loose and easy

I lean into the night
breath curling at the corners
and listen for the heartbeat