From my first collection of poetry, Men Love Chocolates But They Don’t Say.
Borders
The crossing of bodies
Without papers
Is prohibited.
You need the inanimate,
To confirm the living.
It matters not,
Whether your voice can be heard
So long as you’ve a picture
In handbag or pocket,
That can identify you
Tell you, describe you.
You are mute,
It speaks.
All you can do is nod.
Oh child of the Universe
Do you see how foreign you are,
How fallen?
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