The Landscape

By Fernando Gallegos

The entirety of the horizon
Flattened, post war, post love

The nakedness
Of flesh, once clothes are stripped

Not in sexual passion
But from the emotional maelstrom

The jutting metal beams
With words like “He”, “She”, “I was alone” graffitied haphazardly
Piercing hearts that once laid on solid foundations

The scavengers dive into the madness
Into abandoned rooms and even emptier hearts
Finding value in simple things

Such as morning “hellos”

There are survivors
But they stay quiet
Hidden behind failing walls
And even lonelier
Sunken

blind eyes