I am the actual
born out of your ritual
standing upon
the site
of a secret
at the edge of time
I have no name
the trauma that I witnessed
Has no language
Paralised by the spectacle
I could not resist
looking back
You would do the same
You did
How many times did you watch that plane hit the second tower?
“Oh my God” we all chorused
“Oh my God”
“Oh my God”
“Oh my God”
Traces of these deep frictions
contained within
now dissolve on the tongue of oxen.
I am the residual
Condemned to
seeing myself seeing
Rooted to the spot
My tears
dissolve cursing the earth.
Stand with me at the edge of sleep
My gaze now rests here
on all I that I ever held dear.

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