Abraham told us to come again

next year when the sky would

pother with ash from the fires

because right now we could not

see the stars just the faceless

children playing basketball on

the streets and you know they

never miss a shot so we spent

the year in our tiny homes with

aggressive mould coating the

walls and the things we gave

names to like Table and Lamp

slowly rotting under the hacked

fracture of Our Lord and some did

not make the year but those that

did returned to Abraham when the

sky was thick with the ashes of the

faceless children who never miss a

 shot and we wept because through

the char and the broil we caught sight

of He who brought glacial decay to our lives

and oh it was a beautiful day when we

sat with Abraham, the dust of the face-

less children sprinkled on our eyelashes,

our throats coated with their remains