the memory they couldn't pave over
got taller, this building. more glass. more echo. they call it growth. we remembered something else.
july 2018— after slāv, after kanata, after another season of voices stolen, then staged. we gathered here. we named what they wouldn’t. not just as protest. as refusal.
they built around it. more lights, more money, no redress. just steel stacked over silence.
and now that silver figure, blue-faced sentinel watching nothing. a monument to forgetting hollow as every apology we never heard.
but we carry the crack in the concrete. we remember because they designed it so we wouldn’t.