Aroma

1–2 minutes

read

it has become
harder to breathe
on this continent that
is not my own, when
I try to speak, all
that comes out is
the sweet perfume of
small white stars

jasmine vines encapsulate
my lungs— it is not my
space

to grow here

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.