“Who is accountable?”
A sea of hearts broken in horror makes
the question –
and for once, the sea speaks in the tide of one moon.
Twenty three small mounds bigger
than the pile of ashes is lined up
to seize the gut in in simple rage,

“Who is accountable?”
A familiar storm is chopping
up waters as skin, thickened
by fear, from each of our names
to make this story –

“Who is accountable?”

The left wages war with the bottom
The top wipes the brow of the right
And everyone is shattered.

Who is accountable?

In the creases, words swirl and
dissipate,
like flowers bruised in puddles.