36
“(3) for you; (1) for us”
(3)
Rage seeps from our bones,
calcified from years of
mourning.
It stumbles from ribcage to heart,
and then it pours—
pours out onto city streets
where spectators sit transfixed by an injustice
that frequents our byways,
day to day,
everyday,
but today
you may not avert your eyes.
=====
I remember that it mattered that I held your hand.
And I remember that it did not matter to you
that I held your hand
because even though you loved me,
you considered me a visitor:
a tourist of discomfort,
sightseeing mistreatment.
And even though I lived in the hinterlands with you, wearing the same clothes, starved for the same food,
my outcome proves you right.
And more than heartrending sadness
or wrath or
indignation at the stark unfairness of it all,
I feel sorry.
Apology not as expression,
but as emotion.