I am like the wildebeest in your dreams
Search the ruins for my ghost
There you will find me
flesh and blood returned
digging through the rubble for my ancestors
My nails bend and break
I bleed from fingers that cannot move the rubble
Flesh is not stone
Time leaves me here
trying to remember why I came back
Was it the hot gray stones, pockmarked by loneliness?
Or was it my tears?
Why did I come back?
Flesh and blood under red sun
I am wanting to forget this un-home
© zaji, 2016