Writ: Habeas corpus

A whisper carries a long way.
That’s why we are taught
to confide only in what
cannot make reflections.
There is no such thing
as an empty field—
The wind tests its blades
when you least expect it.
Do you love your country?
When did you last see
your little boy?
The blindfold fills
your head with cricket
sounds. Somewhere close
to your cheek, you know
a cigarette smolders.
Someone asks if it’s true
about the size of a water-
melon and a human head.


In response to Via Negativa: Killing field.

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