Wednesday, April 8, 2015

another fucking poem on finding “home” in the “third space”

if i wrote a love letter 
to the diaspora it would break
every word count undo 
every border erase
every dictionary definition unravel 
every noun/verb/adjective 
and unwrite itself 
no colonial tongue was made to 
describe or translate or sustain 
the pain trauma love
that is lived with every 
fractured   severed   healing diasporic breath

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