Y/Our Beloved Community
by Hokis, Senior Editor
It is not the ink
that saved my life-
nor y/ours.
The ink revealed
now revels in my courage-
in y/ours.
I know it will come; it knows me.
Its covert devilled tendril
consistently finds the keyhole
of y/our certained boundaried gate;
On that dark day
{i have them too}
for a live-saving payoff
{i have traded, too}
to fill a lonely moment
{i miss signs, too}
You are not that story
you are this story
{i am, too}
today’s chosen words
will stand as proof.
y/our ink walked us through
the victimized tunnel
y/our scraped-skin once lived.
Today is overcast
I cannot intuit
y/our sacred ink.
I think y/our back is flashing.
My eyes are blinding in front.
The steady blue sky –
above this cloud –
She whispers,
reminds us to bind:
all you have is the “Ours ”
for a scarred keyhole,
no matter how sacred,
never fully locks.
