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Lineage portrait
She stumbles through the catacombs,
Searching for pieces of her land's fragmented bedrock
the picture books read to her by the wind sweeping
across the thronging towers of sleepwalkers
which princesses and warriors and explorers are now diluted in mistranslations,
as tresses of her mother's last gift to her is snipped into ashes
White ghosts of the people who abandoned her grandfathers on killing fields
claw at her with their stolen artifacts, away from her birthplace,
trees that had once sung the old songs to her are uprooted, forgotten

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This piece is forthcoming on Academy Of The Heart and Mind