MELITA
She hadn’t known Lusea well, or at all, really. But there was still sorrow tucked along the edges of her frame, where the majority of her regrets and rues collected themselves, serrated along fringes of dust and ash, waiting for something to be renewed, waiting for an opportunity for everything else to be resurrected too. The familiar plunge of loss though was a heavier weight to bear, and she was sorry she’d never truly received the opportunity to be further enthralled in Lusea’s potential fire and brimstone, to wonder and learn, to perceive and comprehend. She was sorry Sunjata lost her again, that for all the piercing blades of hope and love and justice, there only seemed to exist a spiraling amount of inequity too, undeserving to have to cope with her absence all over again – unnecessarily cruel of the earth to give and take and spit out fresh wounds and lacerations. Even if he said it was okay, it wasn’t, and she shook her head and balled her fists for him; ready and eager to topple down a tower, a demon, a monster – Yet, there was nothing to flex her anger into. Halo – not coming back, quiet and sullen and she wondered if he’d already broken and fractured, fizzled, fissured, alone. What had she been doing there? Exploring? Curiosity? For all those times it’d never killed the cat, the world struck back? Her jaw clenched and her lips moved into a tight line, choosing to stare at the wall instead, back at the lantern meant to represent the woman he’d cherished, not enough fire, not enough flame, perhaps. “Let’s do the entire wall,” she summoned from her chest, defiant at something she couldn’t name or tame. The whole god damned wall could convey their sentiments and ruminations, in honor, in dignity, for those that continually moved on without them.
help tonight to split its seams
Give the bruises out like gifts
Give the bruises out like gifts
