Kaleidoscope.

 

Memories melt into colors and

Pour into this wound hungry for life.

To heal is to sew the mouth of a

Wide country [wound] and come to

Terms with living with the scar.

I let the blood parasite eat from

My core of energy, what’s worth

Giving life, is worth killing.

I open my mouth and I’m my wound,

I let the gap between me and my people

Determine how spacious our

Tales of survival can be.

A love song runs from the heart

Of a lost lover, we mix colors

Without ever knowing sight.