Aiden Brown

Another Violent Crime

Asphalt holds her head:
the wet chasmic bullet hole,
and sticky red hair.
 
I thought I was safe
as a cisgender-passing
fraternity man,
 
strong enough to walk
my friends home in the face
of terrorism.
 
“Safety in numbers.”
We stand on guard; a masked man
Shouts lead threats that rip
 
Through a stack of trans-
Gender skin. I count the flags
Hanging from wrought iron
 
Fences: like flowers
Decorating new tombstones—
They could’ve been saved.