I’ve watched mothers / Break into rivers / Before their children’s / Sprawled bodies.
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When the sun came back/ I was a full tree/with all the room in the desert to grow,
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I hope when they take my picture/I am filtered with bright exposure
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Stigmata on his hands/ a needle in his vein
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A small portion of your wings / Housefly, lies here before my eyes.
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Here eats young and old.
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We become our parents’ dreams. / We must now find a way to be free.
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Maybe these streets swallow us whole
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She leaped from her window and became a swarm of bats.
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and the girls all carry something common in their dirge/
These men all knelt between their thighs.
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The guard whispers to his colleague in a tongue I’m too familiar with, the one whitened with otherness
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Why fit in if I lose myself?
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I walked around the casket and saw Grandma’s distorted body.
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I wonder if I could pray for it, but would God honour a prayer of death?
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I want them/to break and contort, come alive with a/fire that cannot be quenched
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every eye holds a picture of the / sea angrily beating its shore
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No more love / Only the harvest of /golden-yellow sunflowers/ Another summer on hold
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Gather woods /Make a fire /Stand strong before the smoke
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