Burma
I saw a photo this morning. Of a woman crying. Bending over broken bodies. Torn bodies. And she had that face. That face I’ve come to recognize. That we’ve all come to recognize. And it occured to me that, maybe we shouldn’t. I saw her twisted expression, her tide pool eyes, her malleable arms, her mouth opened so wide and her gaze lost so deep. So. Deep. With a face so tattered I could see the world in it. But then I clicked on. To check my mail. To drink my tea. To say “how horrible,” then keep on living. And maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe when you see eyes like tide pools you’re supposed to do more than pause. Maybe when you see bodies lining street corners you’re supposed to scream. But I don’t remember how to scream. Do you?
good point
you should do something with this!
I remember how to scream, but my voice box is shot. Vocal chords worn down and weaker. Even if you don’t remember how to scream, at least your eyes are open…thats more than most people can muster… Nice work.
the tide pool eyes? here?
i remember how to scream, but I can barely breathe anymore.
looking around… we’d have to scream so much
and who is listening