Insurgency forever

It was a beautiful winter evening,

a spring in most geographies.

Sky washed in lavender,

to watch over the oldest lives

on a flat rooftop

where wishes fly away with kept pigeons,

the hour when the town’s

animals became

aware of each other.

Drawn away from the party,

we stood straight, staring into

a horizon, humanizing each other,

that voiceless turf

a resting place for

her militant mouth

before she transformed from someone

to someone else’s.

Sometimes pops of guns

in the distance

A fireworks buffer

between lives.

Doors in this house

come in a set of two

pausing you.

separate them

with patience

or you could whack a flying child

in the head

in the nose.

by Maria Tariq