A frivolous bumblebee in a striped fur coat.
Little daisies determined to be seen.
Damp grass against my feet, cooling my back, blending with my curls.
Birdsong and the rustling of trees in my ears.
The sun against my skin.
I’m home.
---
“Our voice must be heard in Brussels,” he says.
No.
I’d stand on Lady Liberty’s torch… and scream…
Until my throat tears into shreds…
But my entire existence falls on deaf ears.
They shall divide the cake.
The Human Rights Act is a placebo…
Or are Syrians not human?
“Step outside and breathe,” he says.
---
A drop of rain.
Fluffy ginger pup says hi.
My heart is a burst of roses.
I’m home.
---
A stern voice in my ear:
“Here, there’s no regard for humanity. There’s only law.”
But who wrote the law?
“This isn’t my job,” she says.
I know who did.
Those who have no regard for humanity.
They’ve dug trenches to evade accountability.
The Equality Act is a numbing agent… nothing more.
---
Grass between my fingers.
I pluck it… one by one.
A wasp wants me off her grass.
I’m home.
---
Why do they hate me?
“They hate you for what you look like,” she says.
“For what you sound like.”
I held a mirror to their ugly face,
But they hated me long before I was born.
---