by Eugenia Wang
Can I confess to shooting blanks
And say I didn’t even try
And should you ask and to this day
I never could have told you why
That night I stood beneath the midnight quilt
And contemplated sky
Beneath the stars and minor moon
I watched the bullets fly
If I should have seen their deaths
I would have seen them die
But as it was with bated breath
I saw the seconds by.
