And if the girl with black eyes is as pure as anyone why does she bleed the blood of a criminal and if there is no one waiting for her why does she still purr up through the warming whippled rafters and along the whispering telephone wires and up to the moon which has begun to peel and if the moon is not listening why does it return and if there is beautiful power in locking eyes with the one you used to love but cannot let yourself love again why are my hands limp and numb and heavy as if I’ve never had feeling in them before and if this world was once as round as a grape why is it now so twisted and if justice has been served on a silver platter why are the most titled people as empty as death and if it hurts to watch why do I watch at every chance I get and if deep inside I want to fold in two

(even as I raise my two
                 arms up
with their numb hands dangling)

why
do I
begin to rise