our questions, these days

These days, our questions have become bolder
they seized to reach for our skin, or name

or the way one's eye-color descends from the East
of the mountain-tops, because rain is for other people

our fangs, became sharper with the eating of meat
from the shoulders of animals, of men, of children

we gave right to question the symbols
the adjectives, the hours, how deep does the javelin dig

we lent our voices to one tongue, one language
asked the direction of sunlight, the mood of the moon

gave rise to tides by saying: is that a cross
is that a half-shaded moon, is that your name?
is this a lineage, a time away from home
a ship-wreck that needs justification
once more?