The Escape, by Rachel Narozniak

You return so late to me,

than when you left.

with different oceans and continents traversed

An accent thickens your tongue.

And territory that once bore my footprints

holds no mark of distinction now.

that I do not know in which language to speak;

how do I tell you that my heart,

You are so foreign to me

a refugee,

has fled from yours,

its home country?

-Rachel Narozniak

Featured in Vol. 3 Iss. 2
Featured in Vol. 3 Iss. 2
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