What Do the Interrogators Expect

By: Becky Peda

And how are we supposed to get out of this,
after our hope has been washed out and dried,
and the fevers stay burning our foreheads and skulls,
not even cooled by the tears that we’ve cried.

What do the interrogators expect of us next?
What exactly do their ears bleed to hear?
Why must they dig into veins of pure love,
just to smell the sweet breath of our fear?