The Gutters of Scotland

He bent my wrist back to show me how it would hurt. It hurt. A boy wears the mask of a soldier. One day he's only a soldier. Only a fight. Only in the right light. The baton smash on the backs of my sisters, the waiting over. And did I leave something on the floor? J'oublie le pommier. I forgot how far the woods could stretch. How far do you travel for your dying star, Gabriel? Did he hear your message once you brought it to the stage? Did you apologize? Did you back out, back down, get back to the ground? How does it feel when he says your name in his sleep? When he calls calls calls like a murder of crows. The siren call for your hoarse throat. For the poems you wrote. For the cities you brought him to, for the meteor that shot past your plane. I found your name in a book and I expected it to be you, I expected him to tell me what you wouldn't, I expected it to stick. Gabriel, I fought it.