war

i define my selves as metamorphosis, frantically flapping wings,
singing hymns and prayers of peace. tiny in this cruel empire,
i move out from the heart in each precious moment.

across oceans are my people whose olive flesh is beautiful,
radiant. it is more than bruises darkening like blackberries
smashed onto flesh that comes in my name. i know apologies
are useless, so i must maintain the beating of my wings.

together our heartsongs may save us. but is it too late?