Intolerance: The Second Flood

rain falls from its sieve, separate but equal
reflections mistaken for my face
at first
at last
passing headlights
swing and stretch from drop to drop
a veil of unity false.
splatter of sifted drops
syncopated and dissonant.
memories. past injustices
cling, like oil
to the puddle’s surface

sometimes
though distorted
i cannot pardon the glimpse of my own skin

headlights emerge and merging
crashing. destruction
then drive on

walk down the avenue when next you get the chance
watch the stars burst way before you can count them
notice the sky spit a black rain from a white ball of unhope
see two drops land in a puddle on the street
and burn holes straight through the universe

this is. isn’t. we are. aren’t. will. won’t.
oil and water
denouncing apart. refusing together
forever this way stuck
a combustible potential

do i.
only.
watch?

God keeps His promise.
We flood ourselves.

Holly Shupp Salas, a San Antonio native and Austin resident, is an instructional specialist for a Texas education service center. She taught grades 7-12 in Texas public schools and was a gifted and talented specialist. She earned a bachelor's degree in journalism from Texas Christian University and a master's in curriculum and instruction in literacy from the University of Texas Arlington. When asked why she writes, she answers: “I write because I should. Everyone should!”