today, i awoke in an age
of mass delusion. the air conditioners
hummed like the whir of drones. 
they kept us cool as the sun shone
down, in our offices and restaurants 
and homes. today, i read about how
they pulled the charred bodies of children
from the burnt scraps of tent. at lunch,
i ate noodles. after, we had chocolates,
and fruits dried to steep tea. a politician 
signed her name on the bombs. drew
cutesy little hearts to assuage the 
savages. her signature, etched across
incomplete torsos and disfigured land. 
all night the camps had burned. after 
dinner we went for waffles and scoops of 
ice cream. my stomach ached from all the 
laughter. glittering lights dotted the 
highways. when you say a word too
often, it begins to lose its meaning. like
the word unconscionable. we still feel
love. we still feel terror. to find a way to
go on is not indifference. indifference
is what makes you blind. on a podcast
a legal scholar talks about a decolonisation
incomplete. amidst shrapnel and flames,
propagandists speak of a tragic error. 
dead citizens are a strategy, but for 
who? love and terror flinch. love and
terror lean against one another. i held
images close to my face and turned 
when i could bear them no more. forgive
me. i have lived happily during 
the war.