Claim your rocking chairs andYour solipsistic sunsets,But close your eyes and listen.The cicadas have silenced, and listen!Is it quiet? Bibles,

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Disclaimer:I am not a pretentious fool.I know my worth.I am not going to write aboutHow the spirit of the people

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I hate that Icarus gets all the ink. His hubris penned down for eternity while His scorched flesh watched on.  But never is

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And I looked, and there was this ugly brown girl asking for some less brownness, perhaps. I was not God,

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I came from mountains.From the memory of تبدیل,Of change,Regurgitated from the depths of what may have been. I came from spring.From

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I’m holding your frail body by its throat.Ribs showing, spine poking from your back,More skeleton than flesh,You stare back at

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