lost in you, new home

wonder-filled, muddy dunes, quiet

your rattles, your breeze

He drifted far to find here,
Learned the language,
Passed for native,

What even is native anymore?
People don’t tribe like they used to,
Places get swarmed and used too often to belong to any one people,

burnt bridges led him

dark nights in deep forests, he scared

gave up on finding

He convinces himself that the lies keep them at bay,
That they couldn’t know him nor trust him to wish him back,
The truth is far from it; they don’t think of him, they never really did.

There is a ritual to belonging, a price of entry,
Wanderers only pay for their passage,
Do they even let their roots sink or break off and leave bits of themselves behind, everywhere?

inspired by La grandeza de Paquimé