stumbling

by Arran James

she’s covered in bruises
and you let her cry in your arms
in the square outside the townhall
the steps of the fountain giving a cold seat.
he’s done it again and next time
maybe it’ll be the last time.
you let her cry and smoke her cigarettes.
life is a stumbling,
a trying not to come apart.
and somehow in the heat of this you’re
taking away the pills and the rope
and urging her to keep on living,
at least for tonight. at least for tomorrow.
this urge to save the other,
this coalition against death, it’s all we are
and its all we have,
even in the evidence of our own monstrosity.

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