#1376 - fled

 

1376

8.x.23

4.281

fled

for ghost writing

 

in certain ghost passages

 

who were we when?

 

it’s only so far back you see 

 

what has been taken

I can never know

 

it was for my own good

cut off, denied

 

so many centuries fled

faint traces

 

and the gone, like a pile

papers to bury

no longer meaning

 

nearly compost now

 

we, of nowhere

have no past

are colourless

speak the everyday

nor bear the burden words of else

 

people of nowhere

must implore

 

as everyone here

indigenous to anger

 

something in that childhood dreamt

the way you must have heard a heart

can’t remember now

 

I am an open book

you see

but sleep in that far land