Onwards from Empress Market – By F. Siddiqui

To reach the probable location of
my displaced history,
You my friend need
to gurgle greetings in Pushtoo.

Here is my old church,
(the one from your dream)
picture of a wasteland
forever occupied by our histories.

And this rigorous journey
for you, my victim-sage
was not happenstance.
You have taken the
colors of our virgin
the father here in
empress market is disconcerted
he cries to the streets
“Mariam is gone!”
“Mariam is gone!”

they will- once placed around the sundry
of reminisces from your
white suburbuia
-let you cross the Khyber pass.

Leaving you to exorcize
your demons and ours,
ubiquitous in the brown air
of these mountains