Children of the emerald houses
draped in hammocks
curled up in corners
lying like thrown dolls
fallen immaculate
upon the bright mopped floors,
do you dream of your parents
and the lives you had before
you landed here
in the loving protection
of the one god’s home?
They are gone now
the sad flesh that bore you
to other lives
chasing the saccharine rainbow
dream of malaysian soaps
in country or countries unknown,
but they left the better part
of themselves here
when they stole away
in the dead dust haze
across hell’s border
and reset their lives calender
to year zero.


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