Blackout Poetry- Ash

Eye contact is grey and clear. I don't hear screaming... then two small children fidget and speak in fortifying walls... and then my lips are parched and I can't swallow. I marvel at them, like two white doves waiting to take flight. I tilt my head to see flesh and bone and ash. 2/21/2021 Credit: Someone You Love Is Gone by Gurjinder Basran, Page 9