We’re
tenuous together.
Hanging
side by side from her gold chain.
Three,
three, two.
Peridot,
topaz, amethyst.
Spread
thin along the
Stairsteps
of a generation.
Somehow,
Amidst
every
Birthday
undercurrent, every
Snap
at a sound,
Every
fantastical and inevitable reorganization of
Our
lion-hearted loyalties,
Somehow
We’re
together in Belgium.
Held
up to the light,
Our
gaps provide patterns for the lace
As
the rays fall through.
Bright
white.
