Revealed

On the 7th day of the month a storm blew in from somewhere beyond and I woke to find your head crushed beneath ceiling as you were making breakfast. The collapse brought half the stove down too and into milky sizzling blood and oil and eggs I stared and screamed. Your face was never supposed to be that way with a cavity exposing your right brain and amalgamating ear and eye and temple and nose and all I saw was the sliver of brown in your loving eye and something that might have been a smile as it fried. It was the ugliest sound your ears never heard. I ran outside still a banshee and there were others, the same sound from a woman across the street with small black eyes I knew to be my own, our mouths the same, our jowls the same. Overhead angels shrieked and brought down the rest of our houses as we ran past each other together into the crowd and I didn't want you to see me broken in your next life. White light. It was too late to be your redeemer. At least, there was nothing left of the rest of us