For David Glover
by Kharys Ateh Laue
Windows water
could seep through. Sunrise
a stomachful of colour.
& I’m thinking of our days here.
The dogs, the house
not our own. Rain & flowers
I don’t know the names of.
These seven years
of joy
folded
under our tongues.
When I said
the water is off
I didn’t mean
some other thing. I meant
the water is off. I meant
there is no water in the taps
again. I meant
jesus christ we stink.
Now you speak.
Say something
beautiful.