by Elliot G Boodhan
i found myself entranced by trailer- young
girl weaved her way through skinny jeans,
plaid tees, pixie cuts, combats, queer little
thing. she beckoned me near from behind
static wall, so i drew my nose closer to
glass, allowed myself to fall in. world faded
photograph one i’d left, but scattered silver
bottle caps torn golden feathers. warm air
blew up my legs, stopped at my waist to
take sharp right into girl’s direction. she
danced down dirt road, beige dust clouds
hid her curvaceous figure. i chased after,
reached out for her hand, grasped it, she
turned to me woman. dead eyes stared into
past my face, hunched shoulders hid
beneath oversized hoodie, which fell past
waistband baggy sweatpants. her pixie had
transformed into green blue dust, probably
dead from war, for she carried remains in
sneakers. i opened new woman’s palms to
find lifeline burning red fire barely two
centimeters long. she manifested book
bearing names my forefathers, i watched
one by one men on pages fade to grey,
leaving me- whitenoise.
hollowed corpse.
trapped.
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