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