it was two in the afternoon when i was wrapped up in bedsheets

The noise my tyres made on the road gnawed at my ear. Cracks in the blacktop made silhouettes of mountain

My naked skin touches countless rays With eyes closed, hand on head I sway aimlessly to a musical jungle As orange heat blurs

I find myself clinging still. Over and over over    dreaming that soft dream where i grow, to something  beautiful, become something

She cradles a two-year-old in the arch of her hip, holds rooti cut into small bite-sized pieces in the other, looks over

The fruits never taste as good as they do back home. Grapes here are a little too sour, a little

Lately I’ve been feeling just a little bit witchy,  lighting candles by my window at night. Catch a flame, cast a shadow,

I imagine the fibres in my muscles tearing, each little strand being pulled apart like pieces of string. I clench

A news report lit up the dark living room. “Tonight, ordinary citizens and students alike join the movement that has involved

The tram carries me at midnight It holds my secrets for me