Justin Demeter

how we will occupy space

passing strangers on the street
I am looking now, for eyes
to reflect my mourning
 
peering into hearts 
for the familial taste of fear 
swept to the corners, grief
buried like shrapnel
 
tell me the names 
of your loves, the ones
whose terror has split 
open 
 
who is left swimming 
the deepest hue—
have you called them yet? 
 
in a passing glance 
we must discern 
what’s lodged and where 
 
are we flying 
the same directional winds 
 
is it still safe
to walk 
beside each other