And when the lights come up
he's there,
churning,
moving inside of her
breaking up and breaking away
losing pieces of himself

and he's a liability
and he's a not of courage, but of carelessness
but they call him brave all the same

and at night there is a sound
like the sound of a frightened bird of prey
and a moon scraped with smoking clouds
and God is the power in the sky
and he desecrates that sky
he desecrates that moon
he makes her moan
and he betrays her every moment
and she knows
she cries

and when he's empty and lost
and the flesh is burning
when Calaar dances for him
at him
over him
he doesn't burn the way she demands
he doesn't want the way she wants
instead,
he says
'marry me'
and she recoils

and when the lights come up it's not clear who is naked
it's not clear who was clothed
or who, on the night bus home,
was never really there
in that seat
or that seat
or in that head

there is only memory
and a God pronouncing judgement
there is no death
because
there was no life
so when the lights come up
and she's there, churning
moving inside of him
breaking up and breaking away
shrapnel pieces, slivers and seepages
it's not a loss
it's just a mixing
and a return to what always was

and if you get this,
you get my pity.