George Abraham

The waraq, empty of chlorophyll, hung chewed & dangling
Because there was no witness amidst the yellowing foliage.
The toothing beast’s rapture, heavy in the air like a song.

Because there was no witness amidst the yellowing foliage,
The toothing beast’s rapture, heavy in the air like a song
Unfamiliar to soil-worn hands, harvesting small implosions.

yes, that was me you saw unraveling in the snowfall that mid-February night: teardrop crystalizing on phone glass; snow’s emptiness mimicking the negative of me;

yes, it was angelic, almost: how under the right stratosphere, water becomes memory of body but never the grief it cradled—