after Rasak Malik
i will tell them there are cracks on our walls
& fear runs through our fences
i will tell them our home has no exit and entry anymore
it is a home for all who carry darkness.
i will tell them of the mushroom flowers growing on their mother's grave,
the fallen ceilings & the shivering windows.
i will tell them about men who miss their paths home.
i'll point to them the street of oblivion where men forget how to smile.
i will show them women carrying prints of poverty on their cleavages.
i will tell them 2020 is here and our vision still sways in the air.