Gris-Gris, an online journal of literature, culture & the arts

Moon of the Long Night

by Matthew Woodman

 
dearest beloved
it has come to our attention that
 
because we must
 
the vow
 
the gravity of the situation requires
 
the bind
 
be quartered in the scorched chest
of the safe-house
 
it has not been easy for us
 
we do not deny
we do not run
we do not shirk
 
the directive must be
 
like a sparrow who has found itself indoors
flinging itself against the panes
you belong
 
in pieces