to say yes. I believed as a child.
Meaning I feared. Or I loved.
Or stood in the sun braced for those
stupid photos—Easter, Christmas, Fourth of July.
Redact, redact, erase, cross out, tear it up,
let the wind take it. And wind
showers down embers.
That’s sleep, isn’t it? So many
with arms crossing chest in perfect rehearsal
for the hit movie that might trade
this world for another.
It’s that quiet. You think things.