{ a pattern of violence }

the picture is creative peace,
no piling or polemic —
but when you’ve been assaulted, it’s
no longer academic

and people weary of pretense,
the things that we keep hidden;
for violence doesn’t knock,
it comes, unbidden

and tears into the fabric of
the images we weave and fill,
while force comes in to take
exactly what it can, and will —

and all our words fix nothing,
for we cannot see around or through:
we shouldn’t want to hate or hurt
and yet it seems

we do

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