This of cal

 resides in the structure of us,
knowing deeper than the polished surface you measure in your neat boxes of understanding.
Explain the subtraction?
How one by one, the familiar faces blur,
not in a dramatic blaze, but a quiet fading,
like old photographs left too long in the sun.
And now, the landscape narrows,
shrinks down to the singular, stark outline of me.
We, the collective breath,
the shared space of knowing hope,
and I, a flicker within that large flame,
finding you, you finding me,
a thread pulled taut, then softened.
This slow weaving back,
reuniting the scattered pieces of what we refused to see,
smoothing the jagged edges of denial until they align, a single, steady beam.
This arithmetic of absence is cruel.
My mind stalls at the column totals.
I cannot tally another loss.
The ledger is already crimson, heavy,
and I guard the remaining entries fiercely,
clutching the few names left like rare coins.
There is no surplus in my reserve of loved ones.
Each one is a pillar holding up a fragile ceiling.
To lose another?
The thought collapses the air in my lungs.
I do not have the currency for farewells anymore.
Pushing forward, not just across flat ground,
but ascending, finding higher purchase,
a land where the loud noise of politics fades to a distant hum,
where the urgent siren of emergency is finally muted by shared presence.
And you, you sit there, across the divide,
spinning tales I never authored.
Judgment settles easily on your tongue,
light as thistledown, yet sharp enough to sting.
We are patchwork, yes,
stitched together by trials,
a quilt of experience,
not heavy with the weight of blame,
but warm with intricate connection.
The making of us, the building,
was never a solitary act.
It required the scaffolding of others.
When did you bother to unpack the weight of my perspective,
You never asked about the tremors beneath,
the careful calculations required just to stand upright.
You never traced the fault lines that run through my history.
So how dare the easy pronouncements fall?
How dare you simplify the geometry of my survival?
This remaining self, honed sharp by necessity,
is all I possess against the encroaching quiet.
It is a fortress built of necessity and grief,
and I will not hand you the blueprints to dismantle it with careless words.
I am navigating a terrain you cannot see,
a landscape stripped bare by subtraction.
And your easy laughter, your confident dismissal,
Look around. We stand here, present,
in this allowed moment,
this breath we almost lost when we were split,
when the world insisted on sharp divisions.
The cost was high, we admit it now,
but here, in the abundance of shared space,
welcoming is possible.
We can afford this unity,
this rich possibility of being whole again,
one current flowing toward the ocean,
grounded now, deeply rooted,
here in the sun-drenched promise of this land we call home, California,
a single, reaching affirmation.

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