National Poetry Month Day 14: “Matthew 5:4” by Ruben Quesada


Matthew 5:4

Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.

Take me. Take this. My wasted life and all
its bliss—the sea of your waking body

dawning with its warm grip on night’s wrist.
Your lips once curled into me. Your eyes

set me loose in a foggy lake. Loons call
to fill my deadened heart. To know

what loss is like you must lose everything,
you must lose even yourself, you said.

I am alone. Each night I lie and learn
to sing the dead back to life. Only they

can see what has been taken from me.
You are the bloodied cracks in my skin

so deep; I keep my hands together to hold
you in. Hear the damned prayers I reap.


Ruben Quesada is the author of Next Extinct Mammal and Exiled from the Throne of Night. His writing appears in Guernica, BOAAT PRESS, Rattle, The California Journal of Poetics, American Poetry Review, Cimarron Review, Superstition Review, and elsewhere. Find him on Twitter @rubenquesada.

Original poetry published by The Rumpus. More from this author →