all seven wonders of the world
and gas cans with no matchbox symphonies.
Let us be the opposite of riot aftermath
and let us feel the way the rain gutter feels
after it has been swept clean by the current.
Let us feel like we did our jobs today.

Let us taste something less bitter
and smell something sweeter.
Let our eyes remain dry
and our knuckles stay home,
away from brick wall reunion
and ask the other fists that meet there
to stay away from our cheekbones.

Let us listen to something more powerful
than that of a thousand man choir,
or rather, let us become it.
Let our pillows call us to them
and let us arrive
before the sun comes up tomorrow.

Let our tongues be soft again—
Razor blades are not at home here,
behind our teeth.
Let us be alive without anything
asking us not to be.

Tonight–
let us be
at peace.
Let us be
equal,
as you said
we were all created
to be.