Grail of moonlight on an ashcan. The homeless woman asks what happened to my lip. She offers me toilet paper each week before I enter the restroom. In the Japanese film, Lady Macbeth has a miscarriage. The small faces of children at the border, too stunned to cry.
Some people say nothing, though they're kind.
Silence of others like a question. The body cleansed of its guest. There is room for the lyric but there are also these accretions of the actual. From white noise we construct Sapphic narratives. Do not fill in the gaps, for they are precisely what is not story.