Witness

A young couple argues unabashedly on the corner. We are nowhere near as brave. We don’t dare air our grievances with one another outside, though I wish we would. When others hear, it no longer belongs to us—the thing that ignited us in the first place. The city absorbs our voices and they lose power. Was it you, was it me? no longer matters. I can see it happening now. From here, their fury looks so small. Soon it will disappear for good. Who will give in or give up first? I close the window and come to you.

Sarah Kobrinsky is a Canadian living in California. Her poems and stories have appeared or are forthcoming in Bayou, Monkeybicycle, The Molotov Cocktail, Berkeley Fiction Review, and Shampoo Poetry, among others.

Photo Credit: Cristian Pacurar

One Response to “Witness”

  1. mike r. james says:

    very well writen

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