We gather under new born suns,
the homes you built as gifts missing rooftops
to protect us from the elements you seem to crave.
and so We shift, shaking on skinny ankles,
to the predator, jaw opened wide–
warmth in this deadly cave, food, a reverberating
echo of welcomes.
you gave us an incomplete home,
deeming us incomplete.
We migrate now, to the beyond
you claim no longer exists for people
now that We’ve learned you’re lying
you’ve lost our meek hands:
keep your suns and broken homes.