#overspilling

grenade comes from pomegranate & now two boys make a bomb

since twelve i can only open 

sidewards, widen like a wound, stretch any way but

out: when it rains i beg the water to splinter 

across the roof instead of my hands

tell me what to do with all this bloodlessness if not stare until it rots— by lamplight, i ask god to show me a boy whose hands are riper than yours; too cup faces like water, and wonder how many are listening.

___________________________

because i know to forgive is to reconcile truth with longing and that