Writing

i was born beneath the rocks of a single-minded destiny: cutting cords.
sharpened by the first hominins to loosen them from their cages,
with no mind to the wrath beset, on mnemonic devices or lexical anchors,
or the amnesia befallen on transient states, belonging to history's annals.

i was configured beneath the waves, with patterns of curls and divergences,
for disfiguring fjords and highlands, for turbulently separating archipelagos.
lamentations are forgotten by the riverbed, rested as recanted, condolences
to my estranged siblings. generational recessions of pride trapped in our throats.

to be untangled from pain, to be freed from freedom,
striking entries from an endless list of somewheres.