This is post 6 of 6, and concludes the series of poems and prose that Rara sent to be shared with the Stories community.
In a bit of good news, she was released early on July 18th.
Still, if you can, and you haven’t already, please donate to the Rara Relief fund. Every little bit will help her get back on her feet.
He wouldn’t be caught dead
In brick-ugly maroon, he declared
And I asked – –
Would it make the stars fade?
YES. He said,
With a certainty most reserve for big truths.
(But then – he never believed in measuring truths. Or dreams. Or possibilities. Or the cosmos.)
He wouldn’t have been caught dead
in a brick-ugly maroon box – –
but then he was,
and in appreciation of the way he let them be
– – limitless – –
the stars let him be right –
and lowered their illumination
for a blink of dark,