I can count to ten on my fingers— Onetwothreefourfivesixseveneightnineten Now, we can’t breathe. Every second an inhale, A search for oxygen needles In the charred remains of Fourteenth century sins. The House is burning, Invisible flames dig into our throats and Pump viscous fear into our veins— All to throw us over the border. A …
The Sunflower Library 