what began as throbs ends 

in a bleed. I return to the trail of my blood-

line dotted with bonds, a picture forming

an entrance to the place— coffles of sable-

skinned humans captured like trophies.

My room melts into time & I'm one

of the throng: a littlun staggering behind his 

father under the searing glare of a noonday

sun. I watch the muscles rippling like waves 

beneath my father's sweaty skin, his torso

torturously strained by the dragging train.

Here, our mouths lean into memories,

voids forged in runes. Far behind us 

lie the dead & everything we know as home,

a sea shimmering in the distance like an

upturned sky with a vessel specked on it 

to ferry us away. The air rent with piercing 

howls of grief crashes back on us in waves

& I collapse. My father swerves to cradle me,

ignoring the driver's whip tearing even now 

at his back. The last thing I see before 

the blackout is a sea spilling from his blood-

shot eyes.

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