Poetry Break


by ire’ne lara silva

they say
that i hold hands with death
wear black
because the scent of overturned earth is too fresh in me
they say
i sing with the agony of the shatter-hearted
unable to breathe, or unwilling
lightning candles keeping luminaries so that no night is
a stone. a worm.

have you seen the black crows fly
perched on mottled branches, feathers settling
drinking in the world through eyes so dark
they're concave
making a place for absence

and every night, we sleep with bones
every day exist with our flesh abrazando huesos
black waters, he said, immerse them in dark waters
but the black crows' wings is blue
transparent when reflecting moonlight

ay, the tragedy of dancing only when we stop being
the end of gravity
the slide and pull of muscle
the finality of spinning

the word 'die'
falls like a note
held back too long
heavy and breathless
accidentally final
shallow with fear

have you seen the black crows dance
we are strange
plucked of our feathers

One thought on ““Hermano,”

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