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A poem. For Rosario and Kevin.

Damn your honesty. Damnit.
Tell the soothsayers to go home. They’re not wanted here.
Don’t you ever utter those words. Not here. Not now.
You see, we didn’t have the heart to tell you.
When you arrived, the light was so bright.
So bright, it burned.

You.
You tumbled straight down from the sky.
Beauty so rare, the very heavens quivered with delight!
Who is this child?, they cooed.
O innocent one!, eyes filled with tears.
You will choke a thousand times.
On your own spit.
Crystalline eyes, and
Lips red like crow’s blood.

They will lie to you, child.
They will hold your face in their palms with the intention to deceive.
They will speak to you in absolutes,
But their actions will be murky.
They will say, “God blessed you.”
But at what cost?
There is always a cost, child.

Doubt.
A cradle, riddled with holes.
Seeds, sown in the sand.
An audience rapt, with disgust.
Dead men, walking.

Seer, you.
Sorry, you.
Silent, you.

This.
This elegant knotted throbbing mass of blood, sinew, and flesh– not owned but on loan.
A fistful of existence clutched fearfully to the chest.
A thread-bare delusion. A life-sized wrinkle.
An inconvenience.
What would you say if I could give you a glimpse of the beyond, O loved one?

O loved one.

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