They would scream at each other in 7 languages
so none of us could understand
what we already couldn’t
& did anyway

Moshe & Celia return to Poland

to fill her throat with ghosts
to open a door long-since fallen
to tear at time with the fangs of her grief

to leave words he no longer needed
at his father’s grave grown green and wild
who passed long before anyone sought
to make the spilling of our blood famous

Moshe & Celia
life goes on and it doesn’t

Never once did she let go
Never once did he stop trying to
Never once have I seen a man pray
harder than he did when she died