Let me tell you
about damage, about the billows of soft
bodies ballooning out. On that Thursday,
grief filled the spaces, on that Thursday,
grief coloured beyond the lines of that maze
we’d found ourselves in. No one cares
about the birds until they take flight,
(no one cares until they witness how you speak to me)
they point at their feathers, dusky black, forest green,
see them rising, rising: hot air.
That Which Cannot Be Reclaimed
Gabriel Blackmann (He/him) is an emerging Trinidadian writer and poet. He holds a BA in Literatures in English from the University of The West Indies. His work is concerned with trauma, personal mythology and belonging. His first published poem “The Lovers” was featured in Remington Review’s Winter 2023 issue.