Arien Reed
Wait
I’m clutching your hand because yesterday is still burning
through us and these tears mean you’re still alive
your every slow, torn apart wheeze a woman keening
a mile away, and I feel a mile away even as I cling
to this sack of twigs you keep for a hand, I hold on
because your hand is a rope and I’m climbing
out of the hell you have no choice but to die in, yes
you’re in hell and you’re dying, because hell is not
a place we go to after death—it is what we leave life
in the hope of escaping
and I want to tell you how I appreciate your
breathing, that I know too well the sacrifice you’re
making every moment that you remain here with me,
but what I don’t want to tell you
is I, too, know the strength it takes to live, how
to remain alive within the bright glow of hell
is to look the devil in the eyes
every day
and say
NO
Arien Reed holds an MFA in creative writing from National University in La Jolla. He lives with his husband and works at Fresno City College, where he co-founded the LGBTQ Allied Staff and Faculty Association, of which he currently serves as president. His poetry and art has appeared, or is forthcoming, in the TulipTree Review, La Piccioletta Barca, Beyond Words, the Infinity Room, the GNU journal, and others.
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