Silently, we sit
in a circle, reading
our letters. And they

my classmates, my
temporary family, absorb words
I will never see, and
shake quietly, weeping. You

sent me a letter, too
and you tell me you love me,
underlined twice and adorned
with an exclamation point. You

tell me you love me, and
stand tall, seemingly
above me, not seeing
how I have grown long ago
out of your shadow. You

say you love me, and this
is a gunshot, but I
have put a silencer
in your rifle. In order to cry
you still have to care.

Today is so beautiful.
Today is so beautiful in the forest.
Today is so beautiful in the forest with the blue sky and the golden leaves.
Today is so beautiful in the forest with the blue sky and the golden leaves and the ten thousand buried in mass graves.
How.

When all but a few
are here
alive
for only twenty minutes

And those who are here
longer are
killed
after only a few months

How could you ask why
no Jew
human
tried to fight back?

A field of stones-
impassive
grey.
If I did not know
what they hide-
thirty three mass graves-
I would not think
to be horrified.

As we walk
towards a concrete wall, towards
nothing, as you did, we
slowly, almost imperceptibly,
sink. As we walk
we are in direct juxtaposition
and symmetry to
your fate. For while we all
walk towards nothing, our nothing
will end, and you
are still interred around us.