The grass looks more green
After thinking about my dead brother.
I miss him more than usual today.
The wind feels more serene
After thinking about my dead mother.
I know she's better off today.

I am a hurricane of extremes
I love with all that I am capable of
And fear with all I know.
I trust humans with a knife to my back
But death is dishonest, death is the undertow.

I rubbed my mother's ashes on my forehead
Like the ashes from palm branches.
"Remember that you are dust,
And to dust you shall return."