XVIII. They Shall No Longer Sojourn Here by Allison Gellerstein

and hope in burnt out shooting stars

there is an understanding i have of sidapa of the faux selfishness to sending souls, but oh, who could not love how the moon dances ever so gracefully, in the overwhelming presence of others

so i send up another part of my trust another soul sent into the sky because in the empty night and waning illumine you light up again. —

They Shall No Longer Sojourn Here

For this our heart is faint For this our eyes are dim:

We memorized every square inch of town in restless rambles along Main Street, split pomegranate seeds on park benches, shedding the passwords to ourselves

There's a photograph I love from a half day we took on a rented boat named Pegasus. Wind in our hair, we were there but all our edges softened, Your sharp brown eyes stopped appraising and just gleamed with flat contentedness, My generous smile felt real again. You can see me, head tucked into you whispering in prayerful pauses that we'd never let go

When never happens, hear us shatter into four thousand pieces One bated breath becoming Five hundred desperately panting.

Watch a homeland Slip behind walls of mist