Black Moon Lilith: 12

two tinsel eyes peer from behind the banister

I have not seen this friend in four years

 

he is so beautiful

my grandfather’s hair is a fruit bat

 

sleeping on a pomegranate

he smiles through a forest of worn skin and glasses

 

I am in a place of my past

we walk through of the harm of the future

 

over baba ghanoush, lemon, vinegar, leaves

beef rhombuses, whiskey sour

 

my friend serves us, he has a new cat named Margot

I am bridled with alertness

 

some of us will die sooner others

later, my left arm and breast begin to ache

 

it is not a heart attack

a strain, a tear from the effort of a pause

 

from the stillness of family in a room

the anchor of my seat at an old table