I There was the stark Unwel­come In the blan­kets of that time / there was night Who refuses as only the seg­re­gated can— To swad­dle our sick with (an unlim­ited sup­ply) Fire­flies smashed together / against the skin Tight atmos­phere, sweat­ing (like the rest­less) Bul­lets glis­tened, and con­torted, and Did not die. Stoic toward a desperate query […]