Songs of Anisha
Sure solacer of human cares,
And sweeter hope, when hope despairs!
“Family Language,”
by Logan February
The feeling is sticky like tar –
inexplicable,
yet an answer in itself.
Being disowned while being
kept.
In dreams, you are battery powered
& this same bed is a shipwreck.
Son is interpreted as hostage.
The ties bind and bind – even
the hands.
You cannot afford new eyes.
Brother is not comrade.
Brother is property, is I do
as I please, say nothing today.
You have never known home.
It is not a question of translation
when you mispronounce shelter as
cage.
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