Ciro

By Jordan Crallé

Jordan Crallé is a senior majoring in English and minoring in Biology and Studio Art. Jordan hopes to pursue Art and Conservation in the future.  

It’s funny. I haven't written. But now, I am.

And so it is. And it is good.

So the light lights up the screen. A thousand little lights, blue, red, green, 

But what's more is there is no yellow. No sun, no sky, just gunshots and weapons.

I saw a man

On the border

He was twisted until he could twist no longer

They laughed, all of them, as if it were fun

I wonder what makes a creature

Create a gun

A knife to a fist clenched to a twist

I loved you

But you shot me

Dead in the ground

Sorrey and soot covered

I stand beneath gunshots and diesel 

Gasoline alleyways torn between my nostrils

You killed spring for me

How I love that place.

You made him horny and lonely

And then kept making him

But only him

You left her out of creation

Killed all the mothers

The fruit-bearers

The life

And so sperm floats from the sky like rain

And it itches my nose and eyes

So that when it is a sunny day 

And me and my lover sit idle

We cannot but be delayed in our love 

As it hurts my throat and face just to say

I loved you

But you shot me

Killed my love and my time

I rewind the clock as if to say it were nothing

And you look at me as if I am not

I am wrong and I am right and you are dark and it is night

And we are one. 

Under a dull, red, green, blue sun