Dear God: I See the Dead in Mirrors
last summer, the slant of sun scorching the sky
an orthodox jewish man
i can’t say his name
stabs six people at jerusalem pride parade
his face an echo of my fourth grade teacher
mouth hidden behind a gnarled beard but
i knew he smiled when his eyes crinkled like wax paper
he’d give me jelly beans, explosions of color on my tongue
this man
i can’t say his name
but his eyes
sang lullabies that live buried in my memories
footprints stain the stone lined streets where I grew up
the same prayers spilled from his lips
poised around the white-lace tablecloth
raising a silver cup
wine slipping down the rim staining the tablecloth red
l’chaim
l’chaim
to life
god,
how could he?
tonight, the tilt of the moon cradling clouds
my flag drips red again
and i remember
how strange bodies look, clogging concrete
hope coaxes moths to a street light, i
don’t want to die, i
pray for the first time in months, i
watch galaxies crumble in the black behind my eyes
god,
how could you?