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Kamran Sajid | Issue 22 'Museion'

we are chameleons 


in red, white and blue

our varnish brands us in forests and deserts

but in the harsh light of the concrete factory

we are only green

our colours mix and brawl in the sky

leaving our horizons foggy

the sky is speaking to us in our mother tongue

why must our horizons be foggy?

oh, our homes are brighter now (!)

we have cake in our cupboards (!)

well, the harsh light blinds us

the cake leaves us bloated

we’re still vitamin D deficient

we scrub at our varnish

with postcolonial fervour

and we return to our roots

we were born in flooded warzones

grounds blasphemed by red flags and land mines

our soaking glasses impeded our vision, and we continue to explode

the lava ground was green for our parents

isn’t it ironic? how

ambition was what removed them of their clarity?

so what is left of us?

our spirits crushed by misunderstanding

identity and home painfully intangible

it is our colours that remain

resolute in a refusal to be exoticised

with a heart revealing a green that never faded away


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