For desire

Wild strawberries hunger for my mouth’s spit

Praying to God on the seventh day of ripeness

Single mothers secreting their breast milking

From the agreement of their wild creatures


On the lips of my grandma trees grow on wind

And their fruits never landed on the soil

My reason, life has been mutilated too 

And my father is withering yonder 


What’s it like to squeeze once a boy

Between mystery, adulthood, and splendor 

Breathing within rich hours a borrowed life 

Splashed between the black and white 


Some questions you might ask, and 

God says yes to the fallen who pray

Decent in his flames, going over it all again

Sleeping amongst the fear of somebody’s soul 

Baking guilt out of forgiveness for breakfast 


Twenty-three, alone with no porch 

Knowing nothing of the broken moon

This room hoists more kindness than grief

The ocean questions the purpose of my feet 

Must I pause and plant a seed of doom, after 

These fishes caught in nests swim backward 


First, they came from the pity of bastards

To the sugarcanes, our quiet has pledged

Killing time dressing the holes in their minds

Fools, who think of themselves as prophets 

Now teeth their claws in the belly of the sky

A life fell asleep, the young turned grey


Refugee nostalgia 

Going without saying 

Supervising the common herd

On what the living does after a funeral


In our own eyes

They see us too too little

Sometimes our everything equates to nothing 

To them, with their smelly egos and “sympathy”


But this land, huh!

This land has witnessed God’s own confession

This land has vowed for the end of the owls

This land has drowned in its very own tears 

Oh! Today I beg to be my own God, please.