I am so tired of loud things;
Cars, bikes, wind, rain,
silence.
The loudest of them all
Is the deafening scream
Of someone too scared
To talk.

the marks of abandoned faith
are etched into her flesh
a sheep beneath a lonely flag
a crescent moon hidden under her arm
tattooed remnants of a dead deity
neither of us believe in anymore

with each declaration
of secularization anointing
scarlet lips
i yearn to reach out
with fingertips and rhetoric
to more intimately understand
a dizzying intellect
she shares willingly

a life plagued by faith
scarred by family
trying their best
and failing
miserably

she glances at me furtively
eyes as green as the foliage
of ancient trees
standing watch
over whispering rivers
in silent summers
long forgotten

she holds my gaze

we recognize
ourselves
in one another
there is trust
and intimacy
solidarity in suffering

she smiles
when she thinks
i'm no longer looking

I have awakened to find the world multitudes darker

where pain is a universal truth
and truth is a sweeping absence
injustice has carved itself onto the backs of many
half healed
bleeding blame into the palms of the few

and so we wipe
with ***** hands and salted cloths
on an empty stomach, even emptier hearts
wipe away at wounds in places we cannot touch
looking for answers in blurred lines and false maps