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