Act Like it.

all this work just to

make it up there again

i don't even know if

she can still be saved

but who could look away

Now the man called Hector.

(Struggling.) Shining Hector. Man-killing Hector. Hektoros hippo-damoio. (He translates.) Hector breaker of horses—it's always so hard to describe Hector—

His little brother calls him a "sharp ax"—a sharp edge, always cleaving forward...

Hector believes in—he believes in institutions, he believes in—in country, he believes in family, he believes in the army. Isn't it funny how hard it is to describe a good man?

What if the future is soft and revolution is so kind that there is no end to us in sight.

Whole cities breathe and bad luck is bested by a promise to the leaves.

To withstand your own end is difficult.

The future frolics about, promised to no one, as is her right.

Rage against injustice makes the voice grow harsher yet.

If the future leaves without us, the silence that will follow will be an unspeakable nothing.

What if we convince her to stay?

How rare and beautiful it is that we exist.

What if we stun existence one more time?

When I wake up, get out of bed, my seven year old cousin

with her ruptured belly tags along.

Then follows my grandmother, aunts, my other cousins

and the violent shape of their drinking water.

The earth remembers everything,

our bodies are the color of the earth and we

are nobodies.

Been born from so many apocalypses, what’s one more?

Love is still the only revenge. It grows each time the earth is set on fire.

But for what it’s worth, I’d do this again.

Gamble on humanity one hundred times over

Commit to life unto life, as the trees fall and take us with them.

I’d follow love into extinction.