Let us grieve for our own pain, as oppressions / come between us, as sharp / as broken glass.

There was an audible gasp when they heard he* was gone A whoosh of air that sounded exactly like the bottom falling out of his mother’s** world the winds of mortality brushing his father’s** face the last breath of a kind soul All the years of struggle have settled into silence: Unsought,...

Sleep will come upon our eyelids and they will not ever be lifted again.