The weeping willows hadn’t been silent since the night you disappeared. The neighbors filed noise complaints. The fire department dropped by. We’ll just have to cut the trees down, they concluded.
Aman, on the corner, protested. She tied herself to the weeping women. Hush now, habibi, they can’t silence your pain. They arrested her. The trees were torn down. Their bark was sold on Amazon for pain relief.
I still hear the women weep for you. Though you’re not here and they’re not here.
Your brother wrote to me. You left your skin in the-man-who-took-you’s mailbox.
I imagine you out there. Your skinless spine tilting toward the sky.
They never found him guilty. They never found him. You never told. The willows weep. You walk. He walks (faster).
On Facebook you left lyrics as breadcrumbs. I’m sorry if I smiled at you.
Another depressing ambiguous status, someone commented.
Are you okay? another asked.
Everyone else just gave thumbs up.
As the witness of your pain, I won’t ever look (away).