and then what will we do?

Spendthrifts splayed under

the winding red moon—in our teens

we found only satisfying 

escapes—now we cast 

cement past our vanishing,

something will catch

For lack of trying. Our family

reborn in new questions asked

and the passed times suggest

their memories hurdle the horizon

Land in the palms of those lucky enough 

to beg with upturned hands.