melt the guns

the still of the night was split
by the sound of a gun
spilling its violence
out
into the darkness

the lightning and thunder
followed by a rainstorm
of blood
on the sidewalk

was it a traffic stop gone wrong?
was it revenge for a broken heart?
was it the demarcation of territorial lines?

was it toxic masculinity exerting its existence,
saying “i’m here, i matter, i’m angry, i’m sad”
in the only words it thinks it has?

it was big men with guns
pouring out their entitlement
in pellets of cold steel

and when a mother holds their lifeless child
the whys and whos blur into numbness

but cancer will not heal itself

— Clio 04.12.21

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