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