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Patrick Rosal
Better

What’s ruined
you shouldn’t see right away
It should take all the mornings
you’ve ever spent bawling
over something small
long before you even know true grief
It should take the first moment
you watch your mother place
her lips on the open mouth
of your father dropped
on your corridor floor
until she breathes him back to life
It should take that whole night
and the next eleven hundred to follow
when you’ve earned
the patience of thieves your own
teeth already begun to rot from
your gums the ache
in your ankles your knees your hip
It should take some terrible song
and the rum-sweet sway
of a woman’s body you hold against yours

Brothers
on nights like this we dance
because we don’t know any better
Thank God we don’t or else
we all might live forever
sitting down

To Steve, Glenn, and Tee