Lizzy Burnam 🐞

My people, we tremble
like night shift watchers 
with frozen hands and feet
and someone dear to us
sleeping close by. Like that, 
yes, love is present but 
dissociated from us by time
space or consciousness. 
We know there is suffering
in the kingdom of God, 
we are always alert, waiting
for the next blow, blazing 
a torch on remembered pain
til the memory hardens,
weighs us down like stones
in our pockets. My people, 
we like our perceptions 
precise, no matter what 
precision costs us. Must we
burn, let us savor the smell
of smoke on our clothes; 
must we run, let us cling 
with all sincerity to the last 
// goodbye