BALLAD Poem: The Dust We’ve Earned: A Ballad, by Angel Velasquez

The void left,
My mind came.
Darkness hung thick from the cross,
Bringing the room some new sights.
I smelled the box’s contour,
Tasted what rotted inside.
A mirror slept within its womb;
Black roses lay under his hands.
Silk covered the warmth of the wood—
In it, my soul was confined.

The moon left,
a crowd came.

Right through my limbs, I could see
faces of no one around.
They wept not a tear as they grieved,
polished some words for their mouths.
“I’m sorry he no longer breathes
but to higher places he’s bound.”
They kissed the body on his lips,
avoided the death in their thoughts.

The church left
the skies came.

We stood at the edge of a cliff
a hole where I wouldn’t be found
I struggled to get myself free
a corpse that could not let me out
the priest sang a prayer for me
he brought the casket to the ground
they buried me under the dirt
worms judge if im even allowed

my mind left
the void came