For Lucas, who died, and his brother Christopher

For Lucas, who died, and his brother Christopher

I learn their names
in grief.

The beating was so bad
the ER thought Lucas had been shot;

and Christopher, left for dead
in the sanctuary.

I’m struck dumb, fumbling
in blood

for anything
to cling to,

coming right to the edge
of a gulf I can’t fathom.

‘Christ have mercy’ is an empty echo.
I scream anyway.

All I can do
is scream.

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