I have a friend
whose face contorts in agony
like a bullet’s entered his thigh
or a hatchback has rolled over his toes
when you tell him something bad
has happened to you.
His skin screams at your pain.
He does not whisper
how he wishes you are OK.
He stands on rooftops to tell
any creature with a heart
that you do not deserve this
and he looks you in the eyes with his
as he says We’ll get through this.

Carl Burkitt 2024