Three Seven Seven

Somewhere as a haunting tune plays in my head
I see her hands.
I see the fight.
I remember the gentle slouch. A whisper of a soft name.
I remember the date.
Eleven Twelve Thirteen
One Two Three
Years
I remember we started a war that day
Our hearts had endless capacity to bear
We loved with one hand and fought with another
Touched with one hand and wiped an ally’s angry tears with another.
We were gentle and battered at once.
Hold on to your rose petals as you storm into the fire of revolution
In a cold land, you await the day you can say
Three years and we still survive
A lifetime of our existence on this land and we still survive
From amorous sculptures to underground clubs to the streets
We took our deepest secrets and used them to burn and give light
Remember every face you saw dancing in the color of the street
And close your eyes.
You will feel the wave of grief washing over you
Leaving a renewed desire to fight. And live.
Because we live for the fight and fight to live freely.
Someday we will forget.
Remembrances will be made.
But gladly we will forget.
Because freedom will come as easily as a newborn breathing
We screamed the first scream already
And for these few seconds, an infinity
We wait.