Something like bearing witness to a rape and murder
behind unbreakable glass. The air has been taken,
yet I do not suffocate. At least it doesn’t feel that way,
but I do not feel at all. Even anger and sadness escape me.
I am neither hot nor cold. Everybody’s gone,
but a ghostly reflection stares back through
from every direction horizontally.
I look up in
to the cloudless night.
A pregnant half-moon,
a trillion dead stars
clearer than day.
I look down upon my feet
an inch or two above the ground.
A lake of blood blossoms out
over the broken asphalt.
I am somehow spared the touch of the creeping fluid
spilled from the hearts of unknown men, women, and children.
Without knowing why, I expel what I expect to be a scream,
but not a whimper heard. Just a gust of icy fog that instantly
Is this reality?
Is this a dream?
Is this another place
between death and awakening?