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Our Glass Broke

since there are days broken,
we’ll break them even more.
when our glasses broke
because we cheered days so well,
neither the night,
nor the day,
were all good to rub down our ribs,
more like a shadow beneath the sun.
days we looked too much
at the slats of the door,
and concealed verses from your shot,
not that we didn’t know of how wind breaks
or of the bodies smeared in smoke,
still and all,
we’ve reached God
as if we were not told
that life is gold,
and stories, life.

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