i am in ruins, torn apart
by the endless plagues that,
call my person “home”

many times before, wild-fires
have ravaged & ate whole
the landscape living inside

small corpses bake in the heat,
vaporious bodies; friction-less
in the flat arrid atmosphere

the living: long dead & no man
has crossed this ghostly space
in ages upon endless ages

but the sky opens up &
a miniscule drop tears

through the silence


& cracks

the

ground.