burning in the rubble. It’s
hindering. All I do
is struggle. I’m smoldering

underneath the red rocks. It’s
sobering hitting my head against
the blocks. Once on fire,

higher than a kite, brighter
than a lighter. But grey as ashes
now, taken all the lashes

from hands of men taken
vows. They choked me
as they smoked me. Then

they did the same again. I ended
up as billowing dust in the wind.