Rage on, sister

and get down to the water.

Though the river’s darkness

wrestles a thousand drowned dreams

in the songless night,

moons of the murky darkness,

it’s never far from star reflections,

and though in the mirror, your face darkens

into the slap mark of your own hand,

rage on, rage on.

Rage on, sister

and pour the fallen crows

of inky stain

on the white wall of a page

embrace the haunted,

the fatherless, the exile,

the empty glass, the shattered glass,

the shattered water,

the tangled smile through clenched teeth

the ache of tears like fruit.

Rage on, sister

you who choose to hide away

and let all things pass

like rivers

in your eyes of water.

Rage on, sister

and remember to be kind to pain

and when you find

another sleepless child

take her hand—

take her hand, for you’ll find a mirror

in the care of her hand

find it in the pain

of each other’s souls.

Rage on, sister

and get down to the water

you’ll get down to the water

and find it in the

smile of the water.