"We can not forget the forgotten." 
     
Have you ever heard the sound    
of frozen water when through thinning    
it starts to sing?    
     
In the vortex of innocence    
broken bones are finding their way    
spoken through vernacular vocabularies    
there is a stream within this stream    
     
Once upon    
each    
Human    
     
Familiar stranger    
the visit will be paid to your door    
which is your grief    
trying to understand    
language being described    
     
towards bereavement      
It is a privilege to hold    
these conversations    
with  the dying      
     
their embers emit      
falling from sapphire stars    
cornered in my eye    
     
the kind of friend    
who will know you    
until an end    
he has finally    
found me    
     
in moments scraped    
a thousand deaths    
we face    
     
and a fetal hand    
will remove the U    
the N and leave    
behind    
     
within all honesty    
truth speaks mouthed through    
murdering membrane    
embodied as    
the wanted child    
   
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