Epidemiology of Saipan
Tiny island steals
from the heart
of me—flame
trees burst into
my neurons, clustering
all walls crimson. I
bleed anger from
every orifice—the tropical
island paradise
is a false
narrative I scream
into every sunrise. I keep
running despite
the pungent humidity. I keep
my knees together, beating
against the concrete. My cells
turn to sand, mitochondria
and all. A plane skims through
night whisps of clouds, its three blue-
bellied lights in jet black atmosphere, almost swimming.