Grand Canyon

by Jéanpaul Ferro

You told me it took 40 million years to
form the Grand Canyon—the Vishnu Schist
2 billions years, the yellow/green light on the rim
of the Kaibab another 230 million;

but I know it only took a few days:  the morning hail
of the white church raining inside you all the way home,

the blue Colorado drifting you away on false notes,
tied up the way you asked to be, the war playing over
and over in your head until it was ready to explode,

the rock and sediment wearing us down,
all the rest of us spilling out from the inside,
until the core shows, beautiful in the platinum moonlight,
our bodies wet and wedged in between the glittering strata,
all the night stars shaking violently in the sky,
because we are leaving each other, like the night
is full of guilt, because that is when everyone
leaves each other.