bright white light and this
nineteen year old girl falling
three stories
which is enough
and no one can find the baby's father
nothing can grow in the shadows
and we spend our lives
being sorry for the wrong reasons
we dream of fire and the ease with
which it consumes
the way the soldiers killed
the children in their sleep
we wake up to dirty silver skies
and the news that everything is true
the women were
tied to beds and raped
the ground was frozen
but a giant pit was still dug
three hundred bodies butchered
and burned and
the country that grew from them
freeways and strip malls and these
teenage girls fucked
in the name of internet cash
this man who
beats his wife to death
and then his eight year old son
and then cries out god's name
in an interrogation room
waits for an answer
hears only the sound the
body makes
when it finally hits the ground
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